


Serendipity

by Nyerus (dragonmist310)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gender Norms Are Way More Relaxed, Inspired by Princess Diaries, Intersex Omegas, Lord Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Misunderstandings, Modern Royalty, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Prince Katsuki Yuuri, Royalty, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2019-11-28 18:56:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18212267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmist310/pseuds/Nyerus
Summary: Yuuri never imagined himself to be anything other than ordinary, but a visit from his mysterious Aunt Minako leaves him dealing with his apparently royal destiny. With it comes many trials and tribulations, and love in the way Yuuri least expects it.(Loosely inspired byThe Princess Diaries.)





	1. The Spring Prince

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is inspired by _The Princess Diaries_ (the movies tbh), but is also an A/B/O fic because I'm predictable. It has a more serious tone overall, but I hope it's interesting and enjoyable nontheless. Please bear with me for some hand-wavy geography and a whole lotta politics, but we should have quite a bit of fun navigating Yuuri's future life!~
> 
> While this fic IS an A/B/O, it is not an overly prominent aspect of the story. Also, please be aware that this features intersex omegas! There will be more details as to how exactly A/B/O dynamics work in this world later on.
> 
> Enjoy!

The crisp morning air was carried on a gentle breeze through the window, sweetened with the scent of roses and honeysuckle from the gardens outside. Despite how refreshing it was, Minako sat solemnly at her desk, lost deep in thought, unable to enjoy the pleasantness of the spring morning. She’d forsaken breakfast in favor of contemplation, much to her maid’s dismay. She was doubtful she’d be able to eat more than a bite or two, so it just seemed wasteful anyway. There was already far too much on her plate to tackle.

There was a knock at the door before a man entered reluctantly. “Your Majesty, I’m so sorry to intrude,” he said. All the palace staff knew that she didn’t typically like to be bothered within the confines of her study—her private little sanctuary which was lined with shelves of old books, a cozy fireplace, and modest decorations. It felt safe, secure, warm—much like an intimate nest. There, she was not the monarch of an entire nation. She was just Minako. Of course, even if she could shed her mantle for a few brief moments, she could never shake off all the responsibilities and problems that came with it. They would shadow her everywhere.

But Minako shook her head and smiled, bidding the man to come inside. Celestino Cialdini, an old friend, was always the exception to the rule. “I take it you have news?” she asked as he drew closer. She gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs opposite the desk, and he obliged after a slight bow. Despite them knowing each other for decades, Celestino was always one for tradition. Minako had long since given up trying to get him to drop formalities with her.

“Nothing you haven’t already heard, Your Majesty,” Celestino sighed, settling into the seat. “But all preparations are ready, precautions in place, and so on.”

“Good. Now all that’s left is….”

“The hard part,” Celestino finished for her with a chuckle, though it lacked its usual mirth. Still, Minako smiled despite herself. Celestino's familiar scent of evergreen was relaxing as always.

“Yes, that.”

Their nation—small, but brimming with natural resources and rich with luxury exports—was in a state of crisis. It was nothing new, of course; not as far as history was concerned. It was a matter of succession, with the future of the throne in jeopardy. Most monarchies dealt with that very thing time and time again, yet Audentia had been lucky enough to avoid serious contention until now. Mostly, it was thanks to a shrewd Parliament that was loyal to the throne, and to a set of clear rules regarding inheritance.

But no one could have predicted that it would ever come to this.

The King of Audentia had passed away years prior, after losing a difficult battle with illness. The widowed Queen was left childless, with nothing but the crown. The late King’s brother had perished more recently after a terrible accident, unmarried and also childless. So now the only possible heir of their own lineage came from a most unexpected source.

“The jet is ready, Your Majesty,” Celestino said after a few silent moments.

Everything had been ready for years. Following her beloved Daisuke’s passing, and Satoshi’s accident, Minako knew there was only one option left. She’d set the wheels in motion since then, all the while wishing that she didn’t have to go through with it. But this was not a fairy tale, and so there were no miracles. There was only the cold, hard truth of things. So be it, she’d figured. She was going to do everything in her power to keep the Crown where it belonged: safe in the hands of her own family.

“Let’s go,” Minako said, standing. “Does my nephew know I’m coming?”

“No, but I can have the embassy call. They have his information on file.”

“No, no. It’s better if I do it. I’ll call from the jet, or when we land, or… sometime.” Minako chewed her lip as they made their way to the car waiting outside. It would only be a short drive to the airstrip from the palace, but a long flight to America. Though Minako knew that she’d need the time to figure out what she was going to say to her nephew. The future of her country depended on his choice thereafter. And hopefully, he wouldn’t hate her after everything was over.

There was no easy way to tell someone that their entire life was a lie, but the Crown _had_ to pass to another Katsuki.

 

･:*:･ﾟ’☆,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆･:*:･

 

The city was painted in saturated shades of blue and gray—a day far gloomier than what the forecast had predicted.

Yuuri stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the heavy skies above as Vicchan tugged on the leash. Yuuri obliged him, letting the toy poodle guide them back home through the busy streets of Detroit, avoiding dirty puddles as they went. They were supposed to pick up groceries after a morning in the dog park, but without an umbrella, it seemed like too dangerous of a gamble. Yuuri was not a betting man, and he knew he could postpone groceries for another day or two without risking starvation.

He adjusted his scarf as they went along, pulling it over his nose for warmth. It was a chilly morning without the light of the sun, and he was glad he at least had the foresight to bundle up. The scarf also helped to keep out the acrid stench of exhaust fumes, but such was the price of living in a city. Still, Yuuri knew he would be sad to leave Detroit altogether, since he felt like he’d just gotten used to it.

With graduation over, Yuuri had the rest of his life to plan out. It was possible to stay in Detroit, but the nature of his degree probably meant some amount of travel—if not soon, then later. Though he had an interview lined up for the afternoon, he could only guess what the future held for him.

“Vicchan, let’s hurry back,” Yuuri muttered, feeling nervous all over again, despite the half-dozen pep talks he’d given himself over the past couple of days. His interview was just for an assistant position in the mayor’s office. A humble stepping stone to something else, hopefully, but even that suddenly seemed daunting. Was he even qualified? His masters had to count for _something_ , right?

They weaved their way back to the apartment in short order, since it was only two blocks away. Too focused on the upcoming interview, Yuuri failed to notice the shiny black Mercedes parked out front, or its little flags fluttering in the wind. He walked right past it and into the cramped lobby. The clerk at the desk didn’t even bother looking up, but that was quite typical, so Yuuri just scooped up Vicchan into his arms and took the rickety elevator to his floor.

Though it was a little old, his apartment complex wasn’t so bad a place to live. Everything more-or-less worked, the faucet only leaked on Sundays, his neighbors weren’t axe murderers, and he’d found ways to deal with the cockroaches. More than anything, it was in a decent location, but the rent wasn’t so high as to leave him penniless. Even though he only worked part-time at the local dance studio, it was enough to pay his share. But since his roommate had recently moved out… well, he needed that full-time assistant position badly if he didn’t want to be eating instant ramen for the next month. Or if he wanted hot water and electricity, too.

He knew something was amiss as soon as he stepped off the elevator. It was obvious, given the two men standing in front of his door, further down the hallway. They were both dressed in plain black suits and it immediately set off every alarm inside of Yuuri’s head that told him to _run away_. Instead, Yuuri’s feet seemed to plant themselves firmly in place. His grip on Vicchan tightened, and the pup made soft whining noises in response, but knew better than to try and wiggle away.

Yuuri’s mind went unhelpfully blank as he tried to recall what he could have possibly done to have two men in suits at his door. Did he know something he shouldn’t? Was it the music downloads? Was this all just a nightmare? A practical joke?

Suddenly, the men noticed him standing there at the other end of the hallway and turned in his direction. Yuuri jumped, but still couldn’t figure out how to make his legs move again. But strangely enough, the two men just exchanged glances with each other and then… bowed in Yuuri’s direction. One of them took a few steps closer, a friendly smile on his face. He was a large man—very muscular with a _very_ strong jaw, and a thick mane of hair. He looked more like an athlete than a government agent here to drag Yuuri away.

“Hello, Your—sir,” he stuttered, before clearing his throat and trying again. Yuuri caught the man's fresh scent of pine trees and citrus. “Mister... Yuuri Katsuki, yes?”

“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed reluctantly. Vicchan was starting to get restless. “C-Can I help you?”

“Please, be at ease, sir,” the man said, clearly taking note of the concern that was undoubtedly written all over Yuuri’s face. “We’re here on behalf of your aunt.”

“Oh.” Yuuri let out a shaky breath, relaxing and letting Vicchan down at last. If this was about his aunt, then the men in black suddenly made sense. She was a politician of some sort, and while Yuuri knew little of her work—since she never liked to talk about it—he knew that she often travelled with a heavy security detail. “Is she here already?”

His Aunt Minako had called late last night to announce that she was on her way to Detroit. But she’d been so vague he wasn’t sure if she had meant soon, or just in the near future. The only thing she had really told him was that she wanted to meet him when she arrived.

“Yes, sir,” the other man said, coming over to stand next to the first one. He was much, much younger—probably around Yuuri’s age. He was much more… normal in appearance, apart from his violet eyes. He seemed small compared to the other man— who was textbook alpha through and through—but he was still taller than Yuuri. He had a sterner expression, though, while the bigger man seemed far more amicable.

“Please allow us to first introduce ourselves, sir,” he said at last. “My name is Celestino Cialdini, Head of Security for… Miss Minako. You can just call me ‘Celestino,’ sir.

“I am Michele Crispino,” the other man said simply, then awkwardly tacked on, “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“I take it here you’re here to escort me.” Yuuri was a little unsettled with the level of formality.

“Very astute, sir. Yes, if you’ll allow us, we’ll take you now,” Celestino said, gesturing at the elevator behind Yuuri.

“O-Oh. Right now?” Yuuri figured he should have predicted it, but it still caught him off guard. “Can I change? Or at least drop Vicchan inside?”

“Of course, sir.”

Yuuri shuffled past them, muttering apologies for having to squeeze through the cramped hallway. “Please come inside!” he bid them after he got to the door, realizing it would be far more conspicuous if he left them to wait outside where his neighbors could peek out and see. While said neighbors weren't axe murderers, they _were_ nosy, and Yuuri would rather not have to explain himself.

He was glad that he’d cleaned up his place the previous day, though he was never really the messy kind. With his roommate out of the picture, there was only himself and Vicchan to worry about. The apartment was small and nothing to be particularly proud of, but Yuuri felt no shame in having people over. It was neat and—for the time being—it was _his_. A few potted plants, some colorful artwork on the wall, and it felt like a proper home. Alright, maybe he was a little proud of it, but it felt well-deserved. Once he got that new job, he wouldn’t even need to share it with anyone, which would make it feel more spacious.

The two guards came inside and stood on either side of the door, making Yuuri feel a little strange—like he was actually being guarded. Even if he told them to have a seat on the couch, they probably wouldn’t, so Yuuri didn’t bother wasting his breath. He just unclipped Vicchan’s leash and scurried away to his bedroom to throw on some more presentable clothes. Ragged jeans and a threadbare hoodie didn’t seem appropriate, so he swapped them out for clean dress pants and a light blue sweater. While he knew he didn’t need to impress his aunt, it just seemed best to make a good impression after not seeing her for so long. After a quick once-over to make sure his hair wasn’t totally unruly, and his glasses weren’t smudged up, Yuuri stepped back into the living room.

“Ready!” he announced. Vicchan was busy nibbling away at the food in his bowl in the kitchen, which was a good sign since he was usually wary of strangers. Yuuri gave him a quick scratch behind the ears before picking up the satchel he’d dropped on the nearby chair on the way in. “I won’t be gone too long, so behave.”

“The car’s already out front, sir,” Celestino informed him as they exited back into the hallway. Yuuri locked up with a turn of the key, and they were off. A silent ride down to the lobby, and out they went—and that’s when Yuuri noticed it: the mercedes… with _diplomatic_ license plates and _diplomatic_ flags. Okay, well, that wasn’t so weird. Minako was an Audentian politician, after all. But there was just something off about this car, though Yuuri couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Michele opened the door for him, and as Yuuri took his seat, he tried not to get ahead of himself. The car was very fancy, but Audentia was quite a wealthy country. Top five in the world, from what he recalled, so it made sense. Yuuri forced himself to relax, and settled into his seat. The interior was quality leather and plush velvet; simple but tasteful, and no doubt more expensive than several years of his rent at once.

It had been almost a decade since he’d last seen his aunt in person, so Yuuri didn’t know what to expect. It was possible she was here to discuss something regarding his future, considering how she’d been the one to pay for all of Yuuri’s education. Her only caveat had been for him to study either political science or international affairs, and Yuuri had gone with the latter. He’d naturally had an interest in it, so it seemed like an easy choice to make. He figured he may be able to do some good with his degree—cause some positive change in the world, make a difference. Maybe it was all wishful thinking in the end, but Yuuri had no regrets about it.

He’d minored in dance, and Minako had encouraged it. He knew that she had a love for dance as well, and had memories of an early childhood where the two of them danced together in some sort of ballroom. Maybe a state function of some sort that she’d taken him to? Yuuri had been too young to fully recall it, and he never got a chance to ask when he got older, so the details were completely lost on him. He’d barely been old enough to walk, but it had sparked his passion for dance, and that was something he’d never forget. He smiled at the memory, making up his mind to ask Minako about it when he saw her this time around. After all, who could say when they’d next get a chance to meet?

“Where are we headed?”

“Back to the Audentian consulate, sir,” Celestino said. “Your aunt is waiting there for you.”

Yuuri hadn’t expected that, to be honest. He figured some fancy hotel, but not the consulate itself. It seemed silly in hindsight now that he thought about it. He just hadn’t realized that the consulate had residential quarters, since the only ones he’d ever seen the inside of (thanks to some class trips) were simply offices.

Suddenly, Yuuri felt a little underdressed. He reminded himself again that Minako was family, but still wished he’d opted for a blazer, at least.

It wasn’t a long drive to the Audentian consulate. Located on a quieter street, away from the hustle and bustle of downtown, it stood proudly among a few others of its kind. The main building itself was set away from the street with a neat lawn inbetween. White walls enclosed the place, giving it a fortified feel, and a heavy fence was slowly opened to allow them to enter. Yuuri knew there was a larger embassy in D.C., but the consulate seemed plenty grand already.

“Welcome to a little piece of Audentia, sir,” Celestino said proudly. Yuuri peered out of the tinted windows and took in the sight of the perfectly manicured lawn, which was decorated with various flowers—roses, hydrangeas, lilies, and hyacinths as far as he could recognize. There were plenty more that he couldn’t, and it was definitely impressive. The Audentians certainly knew how to present themselves.

They pulled up to the main entrance and the guard stationed there came forward to open the car door for Yuuri. The man even held out his hand to help Yuuri out, as though Yuuri was some overdressed debutante struggling in impractical footwear and an overflowing gown. But since he was just in pants and loafers, he had no problem climbing out. Though he accepted the help anyway, as it felt rude not to. The guard even bowed respectfully, and Yuuri could do nothing but smile awkwardly and accept the gesture for what it was. Everyone was so polite, even to an outsider.

The guard silently returned to his position as Celestino and Michele got out of the car and escorted Yuuri up the stairs. They entered into a grand foyer with a glittering chandelier above them. The interior of the place was all soft, neutral tones. Clearly the luxurious decor was chosen with extreme care to match the light pink marble floors.

There was a reception desk to the right of the entrance, and the staff stood and bowed when they entered, before going back to their work. The bowing was weird but if it was a cultural thing, who was he to comment on it?

He was led past an airy sitting area and into the garden out back. It was like stepping into a little piece of paradise, being suddenly surrounded by greenery and fountains galore. Yuuri was always self-conscious about his own floral scent, but among the blossoming flowers, it didn’t seem so out of place.

“Where is she?” he asked, just before they rounded a corner and saw. Minako was sitting at a table at the far end of the garden, reading the newspaper while drinking tea, it seemed. She didn’t seem to notice their arrival until a guard stationed nearby came forward and informed her. She suddenly turned in Yuuri’s direction and stood up, narrowly avoiding spilling her tea. She hopped the few steps down from the table area to meet Yuuri halfway.

“Yuuri!” she cried, arms outstretched. Yuuri quickly closed the gap and allowed himself to be pulled into a tight hug. “It’s been years!”

“It’s good to see you again, Aunt Minako,” Yuuri said a little bashfully. He pulled away to see that she had hardly changed at all. Whatever her anti-aging secret was, he wanted tips. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a neat style, and she looked as young as ever; not a day over thirty, though Yuuri knew she was older than his own mother. “You look as good as ever.”

“Thank you,” she said, pulling back and giving him a huge smile. “And look at how much you’ve grown! Last time I saw you, you were so cute and chubby. Now you’ve grown up to be this beautiful young man. I saw pictures, but I still wasn’t prepared.”

Yuuri knew he wasn’t terribly photogenic, so he just shrugged. Celestino and Michele retreated back into the building as Minako led Yuuri to the table, which was shaded by a large umbrella. On the way over here, the actual weather had slightly improved to match the forecast. It was still cloudy, but the occasional ray of sunlight peeked through. It had warmed up, too, but Yuuri was still glad he’d chosen to wear a sweater.

“It was a surprise to hear you were dropping by,” Yuuri admitted as they sat. An attender came by and poured Yuuri a cup of tea. Yuuri nodded his thanks before delicately taking a sip and savoring the flavour and warmth. It was _sencha_ from what he could tell, but was a far cry from the stuff Yuuri bought for himself. The higher quality was immediately evident.

“It was a little short notice, I admit. But I haven’t been to the Detroit consulate in ages, so it seemed like a good excuse. And besides, I had some important things to talk to you about.” Minako's cheerful expression faltered ever so slightly at the end, and Yuuri hoped it was nothing serious. Maybe Minako was looking to offer him a job of some sort. Though it seemed like a longshot, he couldn’t completely discount the idea. After all, she was the reason he’d been so thoroughly educated in politics.

“That’s alright. I'm glad to have a chance to see you,” Yuuri told her. She smiled at him warmly.

“You’re as sweet as ever, Yuuri. But anyway, let’s catch up. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation, but I hope you know how proud of you I am.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s no big deal, really. You must be so busy, and it’s just a graduation. Besides, you paid for _everything_ so what else could I ever ask of you?” Yuuri also called back to the package that had arrived for him a few days before graduation. Inside had been a suit that was probably worth the entirety of another semester—textbooks included. He’d felt so uneasy wearing the thing that the moment he got home after the ceremony, he’d shucked it off in favor of a cheap department store version. Much less guilt if he got booze all over it, he’d figured.

(He’d been right, of course.)

“No, dear, it wasn’t just a graduation, it was _yours_. Anyway, I’m just glad you took me up on the offer in the first place,” Minako said with a wave of her hand. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually agree.”

“Really? I guess I was always pretty interested in politics and whatnot.” Yuuri knew that some people found it strange of him. Compared to his classmates, Yuuri was a fairly average student. Meek by their standards, with a sizeable fear of public speaking, and thus not the type of person you’d expect to become anything resembling a politician. In all honesty, Yuuri knew he was only well-suited to a desk job, but he’d made his peace with that long ago. Someone had to push papers, and it may as well be him. If he could do it for a good cause, help make a little positive change, then it would be enough for him.

“I’m glad to hear that, dear,” Minako said. Again, there was a strangeness to her voice—something just _there_ , out of reach—but Yuuri just chalked it up to nothing. Maybe it just felt weird because he hadn’t seen her in so long, and wasn’t used to talking to her face-to-face like this. “I hear you were top of your class.”

“Oh, no!” Yuuri fumbled, placing his teacup down a little too harshly. “I was fine, but I wasn’t valedictorian or anything.”

“Just because you weren’t valedictorian doesn’t mean you weren’t an incredible student. Don’t sell yourself short, Yuuri. Your school certainly didn’t, not when they published a photo of you and four others as the pride of your graduating class,” Minako said with a smirk. She took a long sip from her cup.

“You saw that?” Yuuri was surprised that Minako would go on his university's website to see that garish banner. At least it wasn’t a feature in the local newspaper.

“Of course, dear. But anyway, I’m sure you’re glad to be done with school.”

“Definitely,” Yuuri nodded vigorously, picking his teacup back up. Grad school had turned him into an anxious, coffee-addicted zombie as it did with pretty much everyone else. He was only starting to recover. “Trying to switch back to tea.”

“Sorry we don’t have _genmaicha_. I know how much you like it.”

“It’s alright. I’m not that picky,” he lied. But honestly he couldn’t complain when this _sencha_ was sublime. Minako let out a laugh anyway.

“How are your friends?” she asked, clearly intent on making smalltalk.

“They’re doing well. Yuuko’s triplets are a wonderful menace now. Just hit six years!” Yuuko Nishigori had been the first real friend Yuuri had in Detroit. Even though she was his senior, once she found out they were from the same place in Japan, she’d taken him under her wing.

“Triplets, I can’t imagine,” Minako said with a bit of a chuckle. But Yuuri saw the sadness around the edges, and regretting bringing them up. From what he knew, Minako had been unable to conceive all these years. He was normally very careful never to bring it up when they spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Minako.”

“No, no,” she waved him off. “It segues into what I’m here for anyway.”

“What do you mean…?” Unless Minako was here to adopt him, he had no idea what she was getting at.

“Tell me, Yuuri, how much do you remember about your uncle—my husband?” she asked, sitting back in her seat and giving him a careful look. Yuuri suddenly felt like he was being tested.

“Well,” he started, not sure of what he was meant to say. He’d been a toddler when it all happened. “Not much. I remember meeting him once, at some sort of party, I think.”

Minako nodded with a smile. “His birthday party, yes. You were still so tiny back then, but we danced together. I don’t know if you remember that.”

“I do!” Yuuri said emphatically, recalling it once more—how the two of them had twirled around in a glittering ballroom, giggling all the while. He hadn’t known it was his uncle Satoshi’s birthday party.

“You were so cute, all dressed up. You got tuckered out so quickly, though,” she said with a fond chuckle. “You fell asleep curled up in my arms. It was the last time I ever got to hold you, before you became too big.”

“What about Uncle Satoshi?”

“You were too shy. Hid behind your mother whenever he—or anyone else, for that matter— came near you. I think I only ever managed to get close to you because you liked my dress.” Her laugh rang out through the garden, and Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh along, trying to imagine it. “You wanted one just like it because it was all sparkly.”

“Kids will be kids,” Yuuri tried to defend, though that was a particular taste of his that he’d never outgrown.

“That’s true.” Minako’s expression turned more somber. “You slept through the funeral a few months later, since you were fighting off a nasty cold, which is probably why you don’t remember it. For that, I was always grateful. I didn’t want you to see me when I was just short of a complete wreck.”

Minako twirled the ring she wore on a chain around her neck. Yuuri didn’t know what to say other than, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was just one of those things. He passed before I even fully accepted he was sick in the first place. It happened so fast that no one was really prepared for it. And I guess… that’s why I’m really here.” Minako let out a long sigh. Yuuri didn’t hide his confusion. He couldn’t guess at what she was getting at. What did Uncle Satoshi’s death have to do with anything now? It had been two decades ago….

“I don’t understand,” he told her, and she just nodded.

“I know. I don’t expect you to. Your ignorance, after all, is by design.” As if the words weren’t bad enough, there was something in Minako’s tone that sent a chill down Yuuri’s spine, and set his heart racing.

“Aunt Minako…,” he started, but failed when a sudden lump in his throat preventing him from speaking.

“Don’t be alarmed, Yuuri,” Minako quickly amended, seeing his panic. “It’s not _bad_ , it’s just something… very important. You need to know, now, since it’s about your future. Our future.”

This was like the start of some fantasy film. An old relative dropping by and fundamentally changing the protagonist’s life with a cryptic prophecy. Yuuri had no desire to embark on a vague journey across the world or anything. He just wanted a safe desk job and a quiet life with his poodle.

“You’re freaking me out, Aunt Minako,” he admitted quietly. She gave him a sympathetic look which only slightly eased the pressure building up in his chest

“It’s going to be fine, Yuuri. But like I said, there are things I _must_ discuss with you. I wish there was some easier way to do this, but I feel like prolonging it will just make you more anxious.”

“You’re definitely right about that.”

“Yes, so let me cut to the chase. It does, actually, start with Satoshi. He’s your father’s eldest brother.”

“Yeah, I know that….” Yuuri wasn’t sure why Minako was telling him this. But Minako gestured to signify that she was just getting started.

“You had another uncle, Daisuke, do you remember?”

“Of course. He used to send me these really extravagant gifts on my birthday.” They had ranged from hand-crafted shirts to beautiful fabergé eggs. Yuuri had no idea what to do with most of them, much like Minako and Uncle Satoshi’s, but he cherished them all nonetheless. He never had a chance to meet Uncle Daisuke before his accident a few years ago, and hadn’t been able to attend the funeral. It had been a private, closed-casket service, which only Yuuri’s father had gone to.

“His accident changed everything. After Satoshi, many of Audentia’s hopes passed to Daisuke. But with Daisuke parting just short of his wedding, everything was thrown into chaos. Parliament doubled-down in order to secure Audentia’s future. Awfully hasty of them, I thought, but my hands were tied. Childless, part of the blame was on me.”

“Wait—what? I’m just getting more confused. This isn’t actually helping to explain anything.” Yuuri felt more lost than ever. He felt a headache coming on, trying to keep everything straight. “What does you not having a child have to do with anything? Or with me?”

“It’s a matter of succession,” Minako said grimly, as though Yuuri was supposed to get something useful out of that.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Still my fault. So then let’s start with something simple.” Minako said, folding her hands in front of her and facing Yuuri straight-on, like a school teacher about to quiz her pupil. “What do you know about Audentia’s government?”

“It’s a constitutional monarchy with a parliamentary democracy.” It definitely felt like he was being tested. He knew very little about Audentia, apart from what he read in current affairs headlines and the like. While it was a wealthy country that was strategically placed, there was no shocking foreign shenanigans for news outlets to pick up and bombast everywhere. “The head of state is the monarch, who shares power with the parliament—sort of like the U.K., if I remember correctly.”

“Correct, indeed. And the current head of state?”

Yuuri bit his lip. His knowledge of the country ended there. He’d only known what type of government it was because there were so few monarchies left, and it was definitely a popular quiz question among his professors. Knowing actual details of Audentia was a bit beyond him.

“I’m not sure. A queen, I think?” he tried, racking his brain as best he could for the answer.

“Yes. She was widowed about two decades ago. No children to succeed her, and her brother-in-law had no heirs either,” Minako told him. She looked away, locking her gaze on some flowers in the distance. Yuuri wondered if her discussing their own family moments earlier was meant to be some sort analogy. He was definitely missing something.

Suddenly, Minako waved away her guard and attendant—the latter of whom scurried away. The guard only moved several feet away, out of earshot, but that seemed to be as far as he was going to go.

“The queen rarely made public appearances after the king’s death, choosing relative isolation. It was safer that way, everyone decided. Despite the line of succession being in question, she managed to hold onto power with the promise that there _was_ another heir—a nephew—who would only be fit to take the throne at a later date. Parliament agreed, and the queen is technically a queen regent, just trying to hold things together until the true heir is ready.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“Oh, it is,” Minako said with a little smile, further confusing Yuuri in one fell swoop. “But that’s how everyone decided it would be. Safer for the _heir_ , you see.”

“Sure, but—”

“Parliament was adamant about one thing: the current household should continue to reign over Audentia, or the country could very well cease to exist as we know it. It would be overtaken by foreign royals, or those with only weak claims to the throne, and who would jeopardize the fragile peace Audentia worked so hard to broker in the region,” Minako continued her lecture, despite Yuuri’s growing uneasiness. “Thus, it’s imperative that the Crown stays with someone from the late king’s family.”

“That makes sense,” Yuuri tried weakly. Most monarchies aimed for that very thing, all throughout history, for one reason or another. Bloodlines were never more important than when it came to royalty.

“Parliament decided that the next heir would be the next eligible blood relative of King Hideyoshi Satoshi Katsuki.”

Yuuri heard the words, but he wasn’t able to process them. It was like his brain decided it was too nonsensical to be worth the effort, and just let them go in one ear and out the other.

“That is, due to a quirk of our family tree… _you,_ Yuuri.”

He heard someone laughing hysterically, but didn’t realize it was _himself_ until Minako gave him a concerned look. This had gone from weird to downright ridiculous.

“You’re just messing with me now, aren’t you?” Yuuri laughed, trying to imagine him being anything remotely related to royalty. It was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard in his life, and if Minako wanted to joke around, she should have at least tried to make it somewhat believable.

Yuuri’s laughter slowly died out when he realized Minako was not smiling. Not even a smirk—nothing. Yuuri grimaced, feeling himself break out into a cold sweat, and his scent going sour.

Minako leaned back and sighed again, rubbing her temples. “Well, I suppose you could have reacted worse. I half expected you to faint.”

“Stop, stop, stop!” he cried, holding up his hands in surrender. “You _cannot_ expect me to believe anything that you just said.” Yuuri knew the only reason he wasn’t completely freaking out was because he was still so confused. “You can’t expect me to believe a word of this. This is insane!”

“Truth is often stranger than fiction, my dear, but yes. The truth is what it is.”

“Aunt Minako no,” Yuuri argued, suddenly feeling himself growing angier. What kind of messed up game was this? “That doesn’t even make sense! _Tousan_ isn’t—”

“Isn’t what? Royal? You’re right about that, but only technically. He renounced his claim to the throne to marry your mother. Since he was the youngest, Parliament let him have his way under one condition: his first legitimate child would still be eligible for the throne. It was an insurance policy, as Parliament saw it, and the only way Toshiya would still be allowed contact with anyone from Audentia. Archaic as it is, the law otherwise states that any royal who abdicates is to be exiled. This was the compromise to keep him in the family.”

“B-But, Mari—” Yuuri felt himself growing more hysterical, and Minako’s flat tone wasn’t helping matters.

“Mari was born before Parliament officially recognized Toshiya and Hiroko’s marriage. Therefore, as Parliament saw it, Mari was born as Mari Umeda, and was thus ineligible. Audentian law does not permit retroactive legitimization.”

“ _WHAT_?” Yuuri was surprised at the volume at which it came out. This was getting worse and worse, and he felt the panic starting to claw at him. He stood up so fast that he knocked over the chair in his haste, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. “This is impossible!”

His entire life was built on a lie? It was too much. His head felt like it was ready to explode, his hands were shaking, and before he knew it, his legs were moving. His other senses seemed to be dulled, as he couldn’t hear anything other than the blood rushing in his ears, and his heart beating so loudly he was sure he would go deaf from it. His eyes didn’t seem to see, and all that he could see was a blur of colors that made as little sense as what he’d just been told.

He felt the hard slap of pavement against his feet before he registered that he’d been running at all. But even with his chest heaving, he felt no inclination to stop until he reached the main street. Somehow, with his senses still dulled, he managed to climb into a taxi and blurt out an address. Everything inside—every nerve, every cell in his body—told him that he needed to get away from here as fast as possible, and he didn’t want to do anything but obey that one instinct.

He would face any consequences later, but for now, he needed to find a safe place to cry.

 

* * *

 

Minako stood in the consulate’s lobby, a phone clutched tightly in her hand. She worried her lip between her teeth as Celestino came to stand next to her. The other guards and staff members were nearby as well, all whispering. She was likely putting out a harsh scent in her frustration, so no one else dared venture too close.

“Your Majesty…,” Celestino started softly. “We could have stopped him.”

Minako just scoffed. “And then what? Dragged him back like an animal?”

“Of course not! But it’s dangerous for him to just run away like that!”

“I know.” She was trying very hard to keep from throwing her phone at the nearest wall, furious with herself. “He needs protection. And more than that, he needs to feel safe, which is probably the exact opposite of how I’ve made him feel right now.”

She’d thought of a hundred different ways to break the news to her nephew on the journey over here, but in the end she’d decided that the most direct approach may be best. Never before had she felt so wrong. Yuuri was a gentle soul. Not delicate, but certainly naive. He was like a wide-eyed doe, innocent and unaware, and she’d just been the shotgun pointed right at him. She should have been more subtle. She should have found a better way to—

“Pardon me, Your Majesty,” Celestino said, as if he could immediately sense her spiraling into self-doubt (for the millionth time). “But you are correct in that he needs protection. Michele and I can see to it that he’s safe. We can keep an eye on him until….”

“Until further notice,” Minako nodded, grateful for his level-headedness during all this. She gestured for them to go. “Keep him safe, at all costs. And please, god, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”


	2. Lineage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TFW your entire life has been thrown upside down after one (1) afternoon tea break with your aunt.
> 
> But Yuuri will learn to master his denial, and will get some answers. Lots of worldbuilding! Please bear with me for the geographical and political handwaving as usual--just go with it!~ ;)
> 
> Thank you as always to my dear [Nora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammi_vicinora) for the help!

Yuuri did not expect for his day to end with him crying at the foot of a couch. It wasn’t even his own couch.

“I don’t know what to do, Yuuko,” he sobbed out, taking the tissue she handed him. She’d been listening to his babbling for the last half-hour or so, while her husband Takeshi was distracting their little girls in the kitchen. She’d coached him through a nasty panic attack, and had listened to his nonsensical story.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around this,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. She reached down and grabbed Yuuri’s arm, then hauled him up onto the couch properly. “Get up here. Why are you still on the ground like that?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your upholstery with my snot and tears,” he sniffed. She gave him a sympathetic smile and patted him on the arm.

“How thoughtful. But yeah, as for what to do now….” Yuuko was at a loss as well. It wasn’t everyday that a close friend turned out to be long-lost royalty. Yuuri had revealed it all the moment he’d burst into the apartment, unable to stop his hysteria. It was embarrassing, now that he thought about it, the way he just broke down in Yuuko’s living room. But he’d felt ready to explode with the weight of this horrible new secret, and so he’d ended up at her place before he realized it. The words had spilled out before he could stop them, followed by the tears.

“I need to talk to my family,” Yuuri said quietly. It was the most logical next step, but it felt like a Herculean task. What would he say? What did he expect _them_ to say in return? Oh god, this was not going to be easy. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him at the thought.

“Do you want to call them now?” Yuuko asked softly. “It might be easier that way.”

“No.” Yuuri shook his head as he wrung his fingers. He was just starting to calm down, but the thought of confronting his family was setting off his panic again. “I just… have to pull myself together.”

Mostly his strategy for that consisted of avoiding the truth of the matter as much as possible, but if he was going to ask his parents about _the truth_ , then he would have to face it too. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that, but he knew he didn’t have much time to dawdle.

“Are you going to go back to your place?” Yuuko asked, worry on her face. “Do you think those guards would be there waiting for you?”

“They might be.” Though even if they were, Yuuri couldn’t quite envision them dragging him away against his will. After all, they had the opportunity to stop him as he ran from the consulate, but they hadn’t. It was still a risky move, but he didn’t have much choice. It wasn’t like he could hide at Yuuko’s forever. Not to mention, Vicchan was alone back at the apartment, and he would start to get scared if Yuuri didn’t return before dark.

“You know, Yuuri,” Yuuko started, taking Yuuri’s hands in hers. “No one can make you do something you don’t want to do. You’re not their property, or their slave, or anything. You’re your own independent person and you can absolutely tell them _no_ , if that’s what you want to do. After all, from what you’ve told me, it sounds a lot like they need _you_ more than you need them.”

“I wish it were that easy,” he sighed. “But I barely know what’s going on. Can I really make a decision without understanding the situation first?”

“Good point. But I just want you to remember that you’re not alone, and you don’t have to bow to the whim of someone else. Talk to your family. See what they have to say. Whatever happens, we’re on your side, Yuuri—me, Takeshi, and the girls,” Yuuko said, giving his hand a squeeze. Yuuri smiled at her, grateful for her support. It was exactly what he’d needed to hear. Perhaps it’s why he’d brought himself here in the first place, knowing that his friend would give him the support and reassurance he desperately craved at the moment.

He wasn’t ready to go home at all, but he couldn’t continue disrupting Yuuko and Takeshi’s life. So he stood and brushed off his pants as if it would get rid of all the jumbled-up thoughts inside his head somehow. But the motion attracted the attention of Yuuko’s triplets, who bounced across the apartment from the kitchen. Takeshi hollered after them, but three little girls were a force you couldn’t always stop. They crashed into Yuuri, clinging to his legs and surrounding him.

“Yuuri, are you really royalty?”

“Do you have a crown?”

“Are you going to live in a castle?”

“Girls, settle down!” Yuuko admonished, mouthing Yuuri an apology. “It’s rude to eavesdrop, and even ruder to bombard someone with questions like that.”

But Yuuri couldn’t really blame them. The apartment was spacious, but small enough that someone’s hysterics would be well-heard anywhere within the space. Not to mention, the triplets were notoriously clever. The three of them muttered out a disingenuous apology as Takeshi joined them, seeming a little out of breath.

“Sorry, sorry. I tried to keep them corralled, but you know how they are,” he said. Despite being almost twice Yuuri’s size, it seemed even Takeshi was no match for the triplets.

“It’s fine,” Yuuri waved it off, despite his discomfort. Yuuko led him to the front door, and the girls followed, whispering amongst themselves and giggling. “I’m sorry for just barging in.”

“Oh, come on,” Takeshi snorted. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

“If you ever need a place to hide away, you’d be safe here.” 

There was certainly a part of Yuuri that wanted to take them up on the offer, but he couldn’t bear the thought of involving the Nishigoris in his own troubles. Maybe he’d already put them at risk. The least he could do was face his own problems without relying on others for once.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” he told them, before taking his leave.

He stepped out into the dimness of the evening, and made his way home through the twilight. He’d been at Yuuko’s far longer than he’d realized. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long walk to his apartment, just a few blocks down in one direction. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and wasn’t surprised to see several missed calls. Mostly from Minako and some unknown numbers (most likely the guards), but… also two calls from his parents, and one from his sister.

Yuuri frowned before shoving the phone back in his pocket, glad that he usually kept it on silent. He’d have to call them back at some point, but not yet. No, he was going to do this on his own terms.

He huffed as he pushed open the door to his apartment, full of indignant fury. He was surprised that there was no one here waiting for him, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He let out a sigh just as Vicchan yipped excitedly at his return, running on over from the other side of the room and almost tripping Yuuri as usual. Yuuri picked him up and gave him a quick few scritches behind the ears. “Boy, do I have a lot to tell you. You’re not going to believe me at all.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had changed into his pajamas and was curled up on his favorite side of the couch when he made the call to his parents. Ignoring the loud thud of his heartbeat, he listened to the phone ring twice before being answered.

“ _Moshi moshi_ ,” came the familiar, soft voice of his mother. “Yuuri?”

“Y-Yeah,” Yuuri confirmed, before switching to Japanese. “It’s me, Mom.”

“Oh, Yuuri. I’m so glad you called back. We were starting to get worried.” She sounded calm, but he could hear the undercurrent of concern.

“Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to make anyone worry. I went to Yuuko’s place, that’s all.” He paused and chewed his lip. It was so nice to hear his mother’s soft voice right now, but at the same time….

“Ah, how is she doing? The triplets?”

“Good, good! They’re growing up so fast.” It was strange to be making small talk, but Yuuri could hear his mother moving on the other side of the line.

“I bet they’re very mischievous at this age.”

“Aren’t all kids?”

“Mari certainly was, but you were such a sweet little thing, Yuuri. Always so shy and quiet, but of course, stubborn as the rest of us.”

“Speaking of which—well, sort of—I called because….” Yuuri stumbled over his own words, finding it difficult to get out what he wanted to say.

“I know, dear,” his mother said simply. “I have your father and sister here with me now. We’re in the unused banquet hall, so no one will overhear.”

“Yo, little brother,” came Mari’s voice first.

“Ah, Yuuri,” came his father’s. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Dad, Mari. But enough smalltalk. I think there’s something we all need to discuss,” Yuuri said. The more they kept beating around the bush, the more anxious it was making him.

“Aunt Minako called us a few hours ago. Told us what she told you. Also said you ran away,” Mari said.

“I might’ve panicked,” he admitted, blushing when he recalled running out of the consulate like a teenager unable to deal with some bad news. “But to be fair, I did just find out that there’s a whole different side of my life that was completely hidden from me.”

“For that, we’re sorry, Yuuri,” his father said, clearing his throat. “Me, most of all. We decided it was for the best, to keep you safe. And moreover… we never expected things to turn out like this. We thought for sure either Satoshi or Daisuke would have an heir, that it would never come to us, and that we would tell you later, when it didn’t matter.”

“It mattering or not isn’t the point! It's the fact that it was hidden from me in the first place,” Yuuri cried, careful to keep his voice down so his neighbors wouldn’t hear through the thin walls. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s not. You told me you met Mom when you were on vacation, and eloped.”

“That’s true, dear. All of that is true,” his mother quickly interjected. “The Audentian Parliament had issues with the marriage, though.”

“I always wanted a simple life,” his father admitted. And Yuuri thought it was nothing short of incredible that his father had traded his life of luxury for an honest living as an innkeeper. “With your mother, I found true happiness. I was allowed to abdicate, but generally that means exile.”

“I thought it was too harsh,” his mother said. Yuuri felt inclined to agree. It seemed like a rather excessive punishment for the 21st century, but he knew that Audentia’s laws and customs predated many other nations. It was likely a relic of a more antiquated time. “However, Parliament made us a deal, allowing Toshiya to remain in contact with his family and be free to visit his homeland.”

“That deal was me,” Yuuri guessed easily, remembering Minako’s explanation.

“Yes. Satoshi and Minako had yet to produce an heir. Parliament was nervous, and they didn’t want to depend only on them or Daisuke. There were few options. So as a backup, they decreed that our first legitimate child would retain royal standing.”

“It skipped me because I was already crawling around by the time Parliament decided mom and dad’s wedding was real,” Mari sighed. Yuuri felt a pang of jealousy that she’d escaped this fate, but he would never wish this on anyone. Least of all his own sister.

“We didn’t plan on having another child, figuring it would be easy to avoid the stipulation that way. But of course, dear, you surprised us,” his mom said, with both sadness and fondness in her voice. “We were shocked, but it was one of the happiest days of our lives.”

“And like we said, we never thought things would turn out like this. We thought you’d be safe from all this, free to live your life. We tried to give you that, as much as we could,” his father said. Yuuri could hear the guilt, and it made his heart ache. He could hardly blame them. His father had just wanted a simple life with his mother, away from the stress of politics. It was just Yuuri's rotten luck that landed him in such an unfortunate position.

“Please don’t be too upset with us, Yuuri,” his mother pleaded, a slight waivering audible in her words.

“I’m not!” he said quickly, afraid that she would start crying. If she did, he would too, absolutely. “I just feel really confused and lost. Why did everyone wait until _now_ to tell me?”

“Minako made a second deal with Parliament. You and your existence as heir would be kept a secret until you finished your schooling. In order to get them to agree, she made it seem like it was just her helping to prepare you for the future,” his father explained, as Yuuri felt the pieces fall into place.

“That's why she asked I study politics in some way,” he realized.

“Yes. It helped her appease Parliament, to some degree.”

Yuuri shook off the feeling of being used for now, and focused on the most peculiar thing about the whole situation. “Why did everyone want to keep me secret?”

“On our side, we wanted you to grow up as a normal child. On theirs… well, it’s rather complicated. It would be better if Minako explained it to you, but suffice it to say that it’s a matter of political disrest, and your own safety.”

Yuuri just groaned. That was not as helpful as he’d expected, and only served to make him more nervous. Was he in some kind of danger?

“We know this is a lot, but….”

“Yeah. I just don’t know what to do now.”

“You know they can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. You _can_ say no,” came Mari’s ever-pragmatic advice. A part of Yuuri wanted to do exactly that. To tell them all that sorry, he wasn’t interested, and they had to find someone else. But then he thought back to the look on his aunt’s face when she told him that he was the last hope of Audentia maintaining it’s peace. He knew he absolutely wasn’t ready to deal with any of that, but he also didn’t want to be the reason anyone got hurt. He didn’t want to disappoint her, or anyone else.

Yuuri stayed quiet for a long time before asking, “Is it alright if I come home for a little while?” Just a few days to see his family and get his head in order, while he figured out what the hell he was going to do.

“You never need to ask, dear.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri didn’t bother packing very much. Apart from a single suitcase of clothes, he just had a backpack for his laptop and some knicknacks. There was Vicchan and his carrier, too, and Yuuri lamented that his dog couldn't travel with him in the cabin. But it was a long way to Fukuoka International from Detroit Metro, with two layovers, so it wasn’t feasible. Yuuko had offered to take care of Vicchan for a while, but Yuuri didn’t want to leave him behind. It would just become another thing that would weigh heavy on his mind.

So with his trusty toy poodle in tow, Yuuri made his way to the airport the following day. He’d only cried twice (once from stress and once from the price of his ticket), which he considered to be a win. All things considered, he felt like he was handling the whole situation rather well. Nevermind that he ignored his parent’s advice to call Minako.

Yuuri knew he didn’t have it in him to face her again so soon. He felt a mix of anger towards her, and shame towards himself. Two emotions he never did well with—but then, did anyone?

The cab dropped him off at departures in short order, so with his suitcase in one hand and Vicchan on the other, Yuuri made his way inside towards the check-in counters. He wasn’t too familiar with the layout of the airport, having rarely made trips back home—due to both cost and time reasons. It took him a few moments, but he finally spotted the bright blue logo of All Nippon Airways on one of the large signs. There was only a short line for the counter, much to his relief. He was a nervous traveller, and until he got through security, he could never relax. And even after that, he would be worried about Vicchan among other things, though Vicchan seemed to be a much calmer flier than Yuuri was.

“ _Konichiwa._ Welcome to ANA,” said the lady behind the counter, as Yuuri stumbled over. He handed her his documents and was about to place his suitcase on the scale when she stopped him. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t find a booking under your name.”

“What?” Yuuri blanched. That couldn’t be right. He’d booked the tickets last night once he got off the phone with his parents. He even had the confirmation email with all the details! Remembering that amongst the panic, Yuuri fished out his phone from his pocket, opened up the email, and showed the woman. She looked at it, typed something into the computer, and frowned.

“I’m sorry, sir. It seems that your ticket was cancelled due to ‘diplomatic reasons.’ I don’t know what that means, but….”

Yuuri stumbled away from the counter, dragging his luggage with him. He knew what that meant. He knew what had just happened, even before he looked up to see Michele—the young guard from the other day—standing there, a few feet away, looking at him with crossed arms and a frown on his face. Normally, Yuuri would avoid confrontation at any cost. But not this time. This time, he wanted answers.

Yuuri strode up to Michele, trying and failing to keep his cool. “You’d better explain what the hell is going on. Why they can’t find my tickets that I—and my bank account—definitely remember booking. I didn’t cancel, so I can only assume someone else did.”

“You would assume correctly, then,” Michele said calmly. His stoic demeanor only served to piss Yuuri off more. “But that’s above my pay grade, and I’m not the one who should be explaining it. I’m just here to keep you safe.”

“Safe? From _what_?” Yuuri hissed, just barely holding himself back from yelling. An airport was the absolute last place he wanted to create a scene. “Ironically, the only thing that makes me feel incredibly unsafe is you and all of this… stuff,” he gestured broadly, knowing Michele would get it.

But Michele only shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not the one to explain. If you’ll follow me, however, you’ll get your answers.”

Yuuri frowned. He didn’t want to follow Michele anywhere, but the promise of answers was something he couldn’t pass up. Bitterly, he picked up his suitcase again, just as Michele picked up Vicchan’s carrier.

Damn it, now they had his dog.

“Where—”

“Relax,” Michele said firmly, his tone booking no argument. The man’s entire demeanour was like that, and Yuuri felt too nervous around him to want to pick a fight. Maybe that’s what Michele counted on.

Yuuri was led past the check-in desks and all the way to the end of the terminal, where there was a small glass elevator. It swiftly transported them a few floors up, past where Yuuri knew security to be, but he didn’t question it just yet.

They stepped out into a carpeted area and Yuuri could see a security checkpoint on the other end of the room. But there was no rush of people hustling through the security line or anything, because there was no line. The whole area was too clean, quiet, and well-maintained to be open to the public. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was for private use only, and probably for… diplomats.

Turning to his right, Yuuri was not surprised to see his aunt and Celestino by the window. They didn’t seem surprised to see him either, but Minako had an unreadable expression. It was so strange to see her now with the knowledge that she was a _queen_ of an entire nation. To Yuuri, she looked the same as ever, dressed simply in a lavender dress suit, with a small brooch bearing the royal insignia.

“Yuuri,” she started, and he could hear the relief in her voice. His anger towards her seeped away almost instantly, just by looking at her. God, he was easy. “I’m sorry. I know I dumped a lot on you, but…. Well, I don’t blame you for running away. The other day, or now.”

“I’m not running away now, Aunt Minako,” he clarified. “I just want to see my family.”

“I understand, Yuuri, and I’m not here to stop you.”

“Then why was my ticket cancelled?”

“It was too great a security risk.”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I still have no idea what it means.”

“Simple,” Minako said crossing her arms. “You’re in danger because of your position, and travelling on a commercial flight is unsafe. I’ll explain more when we’re on the jet, but for now, that’s the reason. Since you do technically have Audentian citizenship by right of lineage—despite what your current passport says—it allowed us to act on your behalf and cancel your ticket. But don’t worry, I was told it was refunded.”

“Wait, okay, you said _jet_ in there somewhere,” Yuuri pointed out, since his brain had gotten stuck on that point.

“Like I said, I didn’t come here to stop you,” Minako said with a small smirk. She gestured towards the window behind her, and Yuuri followed the motion to see an honest-to-god private jet outside on the tarmac. He nearly dropped his suitcase in shock.

“We just wanted to ensure your safety, sir,” Celestino said.

“Uh—”

“And besides, I’m sure Vicchan would much prefer that, over being stuck in some musty cargo hold.” Vicchan barked excitedly at the mention of his name. And Yuuri had to admit a jet was better than economy class.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes,” Minako said with ease. “I have business in Tokyo anyway, so it’s only convenient. Audentia isn’t that far from there.”

“Alright. If you say so.”

“I do, and I also say: let’s not waste anymore time. The longer we take up space on the tarmac, the more taxpayer Geldanes are wasted.”

And with that, Yuuri was being corralled over to the lone security checkpoint. The agent there politely nodded as he approached, and ushered him through the metal detector with Vicchan, who was happy to be out of his carrier. A security dog sniffed Yuuri’s luggage, allowing him to pass through without having to take his electronics out or his shoes off, thankfully. Meanwhile, he saw Minako being allowed to pass unhindered through a separate turnstile, along with Celestino. Michele accompanied Yuuri, but only out of courtesy because he didn’t even pass through the metal detector himself.

Once on the other side, Yuuri finally got the chance to ask Minako, “Why am I the only one who has to go through security?”

“I’m a queen, Yuuri,” Minako said with a quirk of her eyebrow. “I don’t even have a passport. My staff is allowed through because they have clearance and were checked before.”

“Oh.” Yuuri didn’t know why he had bothered asking. He _knew_ that. Years of schooling ensured that he did. But it was still hard for him to accept that his snarky, sarcastic aunt was a real monarch. 

Minako certainly carried herself with an unmistakable air of elegance, but Yuuri had always thought of her as a sharp-tongued free spirit who happened to deal with politics. But Minako _was_ politics, so as far as her nation was concerned. It was hard to imagine her sitting on a throne, or attending sessions in parliament, or kissing babies—or any of that stuff, really. He could easily envision her on the floor of parliament, giving an impassioned speech to opponents, but not sitting quietly, forced to be neutral and calm at all times like a queen would be.

Yuuri knew that Audentia’s monarchy was stronger than many others. However, even if the reigning monarch held considerable power over the country, they still had to play nice with Parliament. Yuuri just couldn’t imagine Minako politely bowing to anyone else’s opinion like that.

“Enough gawking, let’s be on our way,” she announced, and one quick escalator ride down, they were on the tarmac. 

It was only a short walk to where the jet was waiting for them, and as they drew near, Yuuri saw the royal coat of arms emblazoned on the side of the jet, along with the Audentian flag. 

“Aunt Minako, you mentioned that I had an Audentian citizenship,” Yuuri said as they approached the jet. Two attendants were waiting for them—one near the bottom of the stairs, and one at the top. Yuuri’s luggage was quickly handed off to them, including Vicchan’s carrier.

“That’s correct. It’s a bit of a quirk too, and something we’ll need to discuss as well.”

“I suppose we’ll have time,” Yuuri sighed, as he followed her up the stairs. And it wasn’t like he could run away this time, unless the jet had a handy parachute.

As he stepped inside, Yuuri was greeted with the level of opulence he expected. The jet was furnished with soft cream colors that contrasted with sleek black. Spacious seats were upholstered with what he assumed to be genuine leather, and everything was accented with beautiful hardwood. Plush white carpet covered much of the floor, giving the aircraft a surprisingly inviting and cozy feel. Most seats faced each other with a table between them, but there were also single seats towards the back, along with a sofa. Beyond that was a door that Yuuri assumed to be for staff.

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” said two of the flight attendants in unison, curtseying. They were dressed in modest dark blue uniforms, and the brooch on their lapels had the pattern of the Audentian flag. They curtsied for Yuuri as well. “And welcome, sir.”

“Please take your seats, we’ll be setting off soon for Tokyo, en route to Fukuoka,” one attendant informed them. Meanwhile, the other scurried away only to return just as Yuuri sat down with Minako. She had a large cushion in her hands.

“For your pet, sir,” she said, setting it down on the seat next to Yuuri. “It will be more comfortable.”

Vicchan was apparently agreeable to the idea, as he quickly settled in on top of the fluffy cushion. He seemed more comfortable than Yuuri felt, that was for sure. Being on a private jet was something like out of a dream, but he felt more than a little uneasy when he thought of how much it all cost. His very seat probably cost more than a year of his rent, nevermind the rest of the aircraft.

“Relax, Yuuri,” Minako said from across the table. Celestino and Michele sat further away, towards the back, giving them some privacy. “You have that look on your face again—deer in headlights.”

“Sorry, I just…. It’s a lot to take in.”

“The jet, or…?”

“Yes—no. Everything.”

“Yeah. I know. You’re handling it relatively well, in my opinion. Minus all the running away.”

Yuuri pouted at her. “Can you really blame me?”

“Not at all. But I haven’t even told you the half of it yet,” she said. The engines hummed to life and the the flight attendants went over a quick safety brief, before directing them to buckle in. A few moments and they were off, lifting into the air so smoothly that Yuuri didn’t realize it until the buildings outside the window began to fall away.

They were silent for a while, and Yuuri kept his gaze focused outside the window, until they were above a pale curtain of clouds. Slowly, he turned back to Minako, who was observing him idly, her chin in one hand. She smiled when their eyes met.

“So,” Yuuri said to break the silence. The cabin of the jet was quieter than any commercial flight he’d been on, which was strange in itself. “Where do we begin?”

“Where would you like to?”

Yuuri shifted in his seat. There was so much he wanted to know—so much he didn’t understand—that he had no clue what to focus on first. So he chose the first thing that his mind was able to conjure up, once it got a hold of itself. “How did you end up as a queen?”

The question threw Minako off, but she laughed anyway. “ _That’s_ the first thing you want to know? Well, if you’re sure. It’s not that hard to follow. I was born into a noble family—one of many in Audentia. We had ancestry that drew from everywhere in the region, including Japan, much like the Katsuki family. Satoshi and I were introduced to each other, and despite both being alphas, we were considered a suitable match. There were not that many other options, either.”

“Meaning?”

“Audentian law states that only a marriage with a chance to create offspring can be considered for the royal family. Since Satoshi was a male alpha, anyone other than a male beta or alpha would do—but as it happened, the only people who were remotely eligible were _all_ either male betas or alphas. And then me, of course. So the choice was simple. Thankfully, Satoshi and I took to each other quite nicely. Unfortunately, as you know, it wasn’t meant to last.” Minako’s expression was neutral, but it was clear that it still pained her after all these years. Perhaps it always would. “Like I told you earlier, I became a sort of interem queen until an heir could be secured. You were our first choice. Even Satoshi—before he passed away—agreed that you were our best option. The rules of succession also agree. And while I retain all the powers of a natural queen, for now, it’s very clear that my time is limited.”

“You said before that you bargained for my education, first,” Yuuri recalled. It hurt, though, to think that he was essentially being groomed for a position he neither wanted nor knew about.

“Yes. The law states that you would be eligible to the throne at the age of twenty-one, otherwise. Giving Parliament the excuse that you were studying allowed me to defer everything for a few years. But now that you’ve graduated….”

“The cat’s out of the bag?”

“In more ways than one. Not only can Parliament pounce on you, so can everyone else.” When Yuuri didn’t reply—too confused at her words—she continued. “The deal Parliament cut with Toshiya was kept a secret. That also meant that your existence was inconsequential until now, so even if anyone knew of you, they still wouldn’t know of your claim to the throne. Passing you off as a normal—non-royal—child allowed you to grow up in peace and safety. If you weren’t a threat to someone else’s claim to the throne, they had no reason to go after you. But once you graduated and your existence was made public…. Well, it hasn’t been easy.

“Keeping you safe became our number one priority. Thankfully, few people knew where you were because details like that were smartly kept out of the public’s eye. But of course, any high-ranking official would have access to the records, and would know just where to find you. This might sound a little creepy, but we’ve had royal security personnel watching over you for a while now—starting from the weeks leading up to your graduation.”

Yuuri blanched at the new information. They’d been _watching_ him? All this time? “I didn’t notice.”

“You weren’t meant to. They were instructed to keep you safe, but from a distance.”

“Safe—from who? Others who want the throne?”

“Yes. It really is that simple. If the Crown can’t go down the family tree, it has to go back upwards—and boy is it messy up there. You are the _only_ thing standing between many powerful families and the throne of Audentia. With you out of the picture… it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“‘Out of the picture’ sounds like a bloodbath itself,” Yuuri muttered darkly. Were there actually people out there who would make an attempt against his life? This had gone from horrifying to downright dangerous. To think that he could have stepped into the wrong alleyway one day to end up face-down in a ditch somewhere. Well, alright, perhaps that was part of living in Detroit anyway, but still. This was another level of scary. Yuuri felt like he was in a modern-day episode of _Game of Thrones_ or something, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“You’re right about that,” Minako snorted. “So you see now why we couldn’t let you just take a normal plane to Japan.”

“You really think someone would have tried to shank me on a plane or in the airport?”

“Yuuri, dear, they would have been far more subtle. We would have found your body a month from now, floating in some river.”

“Aunt Minako!”

“Sorry, sorry,” she waved. “I’m just trying to impress on you that you should never underestimate what people will do in the name of power.”

“But if I just say _no,_ then it’ll be fine, right? What happens if I… refuse everything?” It was strange, considering how this was something that many people were _literally_ willing to kill for, and yet it was the last thing Yuuri wanted. If there were people out there who wanted the throne so badly, then what if he just let them have it?

“I did say that you do have a choice in the matter. You are within your rights to say no,” Minako said, though her expression was grim. “But I don’t know what will happen if you refuse. They will probably leave you alone, personally. But the Katsuki line will end, that much is for sure. There are several noble families in Audentia, some with stronger claims to the throne than others. They would all vy for the position, meaning it could very well end in civil war. Audentia is in a precarious position at the moment. While we are strongly neutral in our foreign policy, we can’t always maintain that domestically. There are some who’ve been trying to oust me for the better part of the decade.”

“Civil war?” It was hard to fathom in this day and age, in a wealthy country such as Audentia.

“Audentia’s history is complicated. It began as a collection of warring clans who were united under a single ruler. Fast-forward to present day, and you have lots of people who say they have some right to the throne because of that, in some way or another. Then the citizens throw their support behind whoever they deem most worthy of it, and you have a situation primed for civil war. There’s already unrest brewing, but it’s difficult for people to say that you aren’t the true heir. Parliament’s decision all those years ago is now public, and anyone can go to the archives themselves and verify it. You were even born on Audentian soil, technically.”

“Great, another bombshell,” Yuuri sighed. Was there anything in his life that _wasn’t_ completely different than what he’d originally thought? “I always thought I was born in Japan.”

“You were, but in the Audentian Embassy there. Another little clause—meant to protect you from future naysayers. If you were born on Audentian soil, then that’s one more thing in your favor. That brings me to what you asked earlier, regarding your Audentian citizenship. Even if it weren’t for this, you would still have one due to right of lineage. We also had a _deal_ , if you will, with the Japanese government. You have a Japanese citizenship as well, which is unusual. Once you make your decision, you will end up with only one.”

Japan’s citizenship laws didn’t usually allow for someone to be of two nationalities. And he couldn’t very well claim to be royalty of Audentia while having citizenship in another country. He’d have to choose a side.

“What happens if I say yes, though? To… Audentia?”

“First, I would make a statement declaring you as the heir to the throne. Then, I’d formally present you to the Parliament, court, and noble families of Audentia. You wouldn’t be thrown into leadership at once. You’d be allowed some time to get used to life there, to learn customs of our nation, ettique, diplomacy—everything. Eventually, perhaps after a few months, you’d become monarch.”

Yuuri buried his face in his hands. He just couldn’t get his head around it. Him? A ruler? It was a laughable notion. He wasn’t qualified for this in any way, shape, or form. But it seemed that no matter his decision, he’d end up disappointing a whole lot of people.

“I just—I can’t see myself as a ruler of a whole country.”

“Neither could I,” Minako said. “As a child, I never even dreamt of it. And even once I was queen, I couldn’t believe it. But it’s a job like any other, Yuuri. Once you find yourself there, you will rise to the challenge. I know you will. And you’d never be alone. I’d be with you every step of the way, for as long as you’d have me.” Yuuri could hear the hope in her voice, the little smile that tugged at her lips, though it was clear that she was trying to hide it. He felt a pang in his chest. She wanted this for him so badly, but was trying to pretend otherwise.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” he reminded her.

“I know,” Minako nodded. “I don’t want you to rush into anything. No matter what your decision, I will support it one-hundred percent—and believe me when I say that. There’s a part of me that hates that you were brought into all this in the first place. If only you could have stayed that innocent little dancer of mine.”

“Aunt Minako….”

“However, I will need an answer, sooner rather than later. I won’t be leaving the embassy in Tokyo for about a week, but I’ll need your answer within that time.”

“A week,” Yuuri repeated blankly. A week to decide his entire life. So much for not rushing him. But that wasn’t entirely fair. Minako had stalled for _years_ , on Yuuri’s behalf. “I just wish I had been told sooner.”

Minako looked away. “We were probably wrong to hide it from you for so long. We just feared… so many things, honestly. It’s unfair to you in every sense of the word, I know. I apologize.”

“I understand why you did it. I just would have appreciated the truth.” He would have had more time to think about it, at the very least. He didn’t appreciate being babied.

“A diplomatic answer.”

“You _did_ see to it that I’d be well-trained, I guess.”

“I’d apologize again, but it would just be disingenuous at this point.”

“At least you’re being honest now.”

“You get that snark from me,” Minako laughed, sounding way too proud. She waved to one of the flight attendants, and in a matter of moments, there was tea and a platter of sweets in front of them. It was a welcome little respite before the conversation continued.

“So what I don’t understand is how there isn’t someone else from our family to take the throne. You said if the Crown can’t pass down the family tree, it has to go back up—until it finds a living heir—just like most monarchies. Why is that so difficult now? Even if I don’t have any immediate cousins, if we go back up the family tree, then there should be _someone_. Didn’t my grandparents have siblings? What about their children? Why can’t we go back further if we have to, to another living Katsuki?”

“Once again, it’s complicated, and that is also by design. The rules of succession were intentionally muddled for a long time—namely, to give those with less legitimate claims a better shot at fooling everyone and seizing the throne. Politics. Once the Katsuki line secured the throne a few generations ago, the rules were made simple and concrete: the Crown would pass to the eldest legitimate child, or would go back up the family line to the relatives closest to the monarch. 

“This was done in hopes of preventing more strife like there had been in the past, but nothing is simple when it comes to power. Other families saw it as the Katsukis locking down power in such a way that would make it nigh impossible to dispute, and thought that they had no right to do so. But in fact, it was a _divided_ Parliament that came together and voted in the laws to begin with. That should tell you something. Most people were sick of the infighting, and just wanted it to stop.

“This is also why the Katsuki line hasn’t been questioned before; why there hasn’t been a coup already. Because of Parliament, our dynasty was given legitimacy over others. It was a mix of some very smart ancestors and a whole lot of luck that landed the Katsukis in the throne. But there aren’t a whole lot of Katsukis, funnily enough. Still, in Audentia, our family remains as a symbol of peace and unity—something we desperately need at the moment. That’s what’s at stake here. That’s why it’s so important that the Crown remains with a Katsuki.”

“And I’m the easiest choice,” Yuuri concluded.

“The most logical, most undisputed choice, yes. But as you said, we _could_ go back up the tree, and then down parallel family lines, but this is where other families start to intertwine with ours. Not that it’s necessarily bad or unacceptable, just…”

“Messy.”

“Yes. Like most things in politics. That’s what would really happen if you refuse, but like I said, I don’t know where that would be leaving us.”

Yuuri put down his cup. He’d only managed a few sips of the soothing ginseng tea. “I see.”

“I really am sorry. I wish I could tell you that it’s all a fairytale. That you’d be living carefree in the lap of luxury, surrounded by servants and everything your heart could ever desire. That would be what you deserve, my dear. But the truth feels like I’m dumping a whole slew of problems on you.”

“It sounds terrifying.” Maybe Minako had a point in not telling him the truth sooner.

“I think in my current desperate state, I’m making it sound a lot scarier than it really is. It's not as though there are armies of people outside the palace gates, ready to storm inside. It’s actually quite peaceful, from the outsider perspective. Any tourist—and even many locals, to be honest—would never know about all of this, since it’s mostly happening among the nobility, behind closed doors. It’s not even that newsworthy, apparently, since all they’re talking about back home is how there’s a long lost prince, like something out of a storybook. People love that kind of stuff.”

“Like Cinderella, I guess?”

“Oh, no, dear. She became royal by marriage. You are royal by blood.” Minako tapped her chin and squinted. “You’re more like Sleeping Beauty, if your parents were the good faeries who raised you away from the kingdom. And if there was no Maleficent or spinning wheels involved.”

“But I can’t sing that well,” Yuuri said, his mind unable to come up with anything else. He felt so oversaturated with information that he could practically feel it oozing out of him.

“Singing is not a requirement to rule, I promise. Otherwise, neither me nor Satoshi would have been allowed within a hundred meters of the palace,” Minako chuckled.

“I still need some time to think about it.”

“Of course. I just wanted to give you the whole picture. Or at least, a bigger part of it. Is there anything else you want to know?”

There were so, so many questions Yuuri still wanted to ask, but he knew he wasn’t capable of taking in any more at the moment. His head felt like it was spinning already, and he needed time to process everything. So despite a million things coming to mind, he just shook his head and looked out the window to the clouds beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has some big decisions to make! (☆ω☆) We'll meet some more characters, and the plot will really get rolling from here on out!~ (And just as a warning: it's a little darker than what some of you may expect, but nothing too much.)
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, but hopefully the wait for the next chapter won't be as long! I shouldn't jinx it though! 
> 
> If you have any questions (like, how the heckie does this all work/etc) or just wanna chat, I'm always available on both [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nyerus10) and [Tumblr](https://nyerus.tumblr.com/)! ♡


	3. Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My life is finally going back to normal, so to celebrate, here's the latest chapter! I mostly had to work on this thing in the spare moments I had between work/eating/sleeping, but I'm satisfied with how it turned out nonetheless. Please look forward to exciting things to come, and thank you to everyone who's read and left comments/kudos!
> 
> Shout out to [Nora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammi_vicinora) and [Elleren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthelobster/pseuds/imthelobster) for the beta! ♡

“You know, it’ll be fine, no matter what you choose.”

“Mari, you’ve told me that at least fifty thousand times now.” Yuuri sighed, exasperated, and fell back against the tatami mat beneath them. His sister was ever stoic, a perfect example of a cool, calm, and collected alpha. Her homely scent set him at ease, somewhat, but he was in a state of perpetual agitation.

He grabbed the nearby cushion and shoved it under his head, opting to stare at the ceiling instead of his sister for now. They were in the unused banquet room, next to his old bedroom, since there were guests staying downstairs. It provided some much-needed privacy for them—despite the fact that there was still a grumpy-faced guard sitting in the corner.

To his credit, Michele did a fine job at being relatively invisible. Yuuri had mostly forgotten about him over the last week, though he’d been unsettled at first. Minako had refused to send Yuuri to Hasetsu alone, so Michele had to accompany him. Something, something, security risk. Michele wasn’t much for conversation, but watching him lighten up at the wonders of the onsen had been fun. No one could resist the soothing atmosphere, and it had been nice to see him relax ever so slightly. He was still quiet, but that meant that he never gave his unsolicited opinions even when Mari trash talked the Audentian government, so Yuuri could appreciate it.

“If you say no, they will leave you alone. They won’t have a choice.”

“I know.”

“I know you know, which is the weird part. If that is what you wanted, you would have said no by now.”

“Making up my mind on my entire futureisn’t that easy, Mari _-neechan._ ”

“I never said it was easy. I’m just saying that you’re being avoidant, not indecisive.” She had a point, and Yuuri hated to admit it. From his side, there had been less actual rumination than he had intended. Given how much anxiety it gave him, it was like his brain was trying to save itself from an otherwise inevitable breakdown, and its go-to strategy was just to avoid thinking about it as much as possible. He mainly spent the last week lounging around, going for lonely walks, dancing away the time, spoiling Vicchan, or listening to his parent’s stories of the onsen in his absence. Just generally avoiding any topic that featured Audentia and doing his best to be an unobtrusive blob.

It didn’t make things easier, however. And now he had less than two days to actually make up his mind, one way or another.

“Alright, fine. How about I change my tune. Would it be so bad if you said yes?”

“Ugh.”

“Come on, Yuuri. At least face the possibility. Would it be so bad if you were a prince?”

Yuuri groaned and pushed himself back up to frown at his sister properly. “Do you really think I’m capable of leading a nation? I can barely speak in public without getting nauseous. I’ll just embarrass myself and our whole family.”

“Oh, come on. No one is good at public speaking. Every performer gets nervous before going out in front of people. It’s human. If that’s your only worry—”

“It isn’t.” But Yuuri didn’t want to get into the extensive list of his own character deficiencies and shortcomings. Crippling anxiety was only one thing on there, and all the others combined meant that Yuuri was practically a walking disaster waiting to happen. No nation needed someone like that as their head of state.

“Yuuri, you’re actually—very literally—trained for this. Knowing which fork to use at dinner parties aside, you have the education befitting a ruler. And it isn't like you'll actually be drafting policies. You'll be a philanthropist, more than anything.”

“That feels like some sort of betrayal in itself. Grooming me for something I never knew anything about.” Yuuri was still upset about it, even if he understood Minako’s reasons.

“Yeah, it’s kind of shitty. But let’s be real: you probably would have gone down that route anyway. I get that it's the principle of the thing, but still. Ever since you were a kid, you’ve been all about changing the world. I know life has a way of sucking that out of us as we get older, but I know you still give a damn,” Mari said, with the same stoicism as ever. Yuuri worried his lip between his teeth, feeling his heart hammering at Mari’s words. He could predict what she would say next. “You actually _have_ that one in a billion chance to change the world.”

“Do you really have to play devil's advocate?”

Mari barked out a laugh and reached into her pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. “I’m not telling you anything that you don’t already know, little brother.”

“Is that what you think, though? About what I should do?” It was such a sharp contrast from the last few days, and it left Yuuri feeling dizzy.

Mari shook her head. “What I think doesn’t matter. I’m just telling you how I see it. The choice has to be yours, and in such a way that you shouldn’t come to regret your decision. But I know you, little brother, and I know that you hate missing out. You still have some time to _actually_ think it over.”

With that, Mari made her exit, leaving Yuuri alone with his thoughts. And Michele, who only scoffed softly from his corner.

* * *

The view from Hasetsu Castle at sunset was unlike anything else. The soft glow of the evening sun illuminated the sleepy little town. Rays refracted off the surface of the sea in the distance, making the gentle waves glitter.

In a word, it was serene. Yuuri felt that calmness seep into him slowly, as he sat on the wooden bench by the base of the empty castle. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, ushering in a fruitful spring, and the light pink petals cascaded around him. If only he had the power, he thought, he would stretch that moment into eternity. But perhaps that was just him avoiding his problems as usual. He couldn’t do that forever. He had to grow up, and take his fate into his own hands.

It was so strange a contrast—the peacefulness of his surroundings versus the storm inside his own mind.

Yuuri was, first of all, not even sure that he supported the principle of monarchy to begin with. But if he were to turn away the crown, it would simply go to someone else—someone who may very well be one of the reasons _why_ Yuuri disliked monarchies. Could he risk that? Even if he couldn’t entirely trust himself, he’d be better than a despot or a hedonist. He didn’t have any real attachment to anyone in Audentia other than Minako. But even with personal stakes aside, it still felt _more_ morally reprehensible to leave the fate of millions of people in limbo, than it did to go against his personal political principles and involve himself in a monarchy.

A fishing boat blasted its horn as it neared the port, and the distant sound reached all the way up to the castle. Faint, but unmistakable, it was one of the many, many simple things Yuuri realized he would miss. Tomorrow, he needed to give Minako his final decision.

Perhaps his choice had been made for him already, or perhaps he knew in his heart all along that he would chose this for himself. He knew he would spend the rest of his life in perpetual dissatisfaction if he didn’t go through with this. More than anything, Yuuri wanted a life without regrets; a life without _could-have-beens_. If he at least attempted this crazy Prince thing, he could say that he’d tried. 

He could say that when fate came calling, at least he’d been brave enough to answer.

* * *

Yuuri did not feel particularly brave, standing in the lobby of the Audentian Embassy in Tokyo. He was surrounded by the same soft pastels and gilded decorations as the Detroit consulate, though on a grander scale.

They had flown over early in the morning, after a rather plain set of goodbyes to his family. Maybe it was weird because he’d only been home for a week after several years. Maybe it was because it felt less like a goodbye and more like an “I’ll see you later,” which was exactly what he’d said to his parents and sister. It seemed more fitting. He expected to feel sad when he left home again, so soon, but when his mother had given him that small, proud smile of hers, Yuuri knew that he was (probably) making the right call.

It had set his heart at ease, but on the trip over to the Embassy, the turmoil inside had slowly made its way back to the surface. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, impatient. They’d only arrived minutes ago, and the staff was still unloading the last of Yuuri’s bags, but he felt entirely too uneasy surrounded by unfamiliar faces. No one had really said anything to him beyond simple pleasantries, and it made him feel so out of place. Even Vicchan wasn’t there to comfort him, as the pup was asleep in his carrier, which was tucked safely near the front desk. Vicchan had been fairly restless on the trip over, perhaps sensing Yuuri’s nervous energy, and Yuuri didn’t want to disturb him now. 

But finally, Yuuri heard footsteps approaching from the stairs nearby, and looked up to see Minako. She paused for a moment when their eyes met, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, but then rushed down to meet him with the biggest smile Yuuri had ever seen her give anyone.

“Why are you just standing there, dear?” she asked, sweeping him into a crushing hug. “There’s a sofa five feet to your left, and an entire over-decorated parlor five feet beyond that where you could have gotten comfortable.”

“I was too nervous,” he told her honestly. The staff had suggested he wait in the parlor, but Yuuri had opted to stay right by the stairs in the entrance. He’d just wanted to see his aunt as soon as possible. Minako gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I had to make a few urgent calls, and they ended up taking longer than I wanted. I _had_ intended to greet you outside even,” she said, finally leading them to the aforementioned parlor. As soon as they entered, an attendant immediately scurried in with a shiny platter of small snacks, and another with a porcelain teapot in hand. It was like they’d been waiting in the wings for the exact moment to swoop in. Minako continued after she nodded her thanks to them. “Imagine my shock when I got the word that you were on your way just a few hours ago. You didn’t bother to call and tell me?”

Yuuri hadn’t. He didn’t know why, just that he’d made his decision, told Michele and his family, and packed up a few things he thought he’d need. After a short time with his family, Yuuri and Michele had simply left for the airport where the jet was waiting, and took off for Tokyo. Yuuri had assumed that Michele had arranged for everything the second Yuuri told him his decision, and that included telling Minako. But apparently, that only happened right before the jet had taken off. Probably, Michele had been busy with the logistics of it. And probably, he didn’t have clearance to call Minako directly.

“Sorry,” Yuuri said. “I wouldn’t have known what to really say, anyway.”

“Yes, well, I suppose you being here says more than enough. I half expected to never see or hear from you again.”

Yuuri huffed. “I would have called, then. Or at least sent a text or an e-mail.” It was weird that he had Minako’s personal cell phone number, though members of her staff didn’t. She’d given it to him right before he’d set off for Fukuoka. “But looks like the other half of your expectations came true.”

“Yes, much to my relief and joy.” Minako cocked her slightly. “But you seem so sombre about it, Yuuri.”

That was one word. Yuuri mostly felt blank. If he set aside his nervousness, he didn’t really feel anything strongly. Minako’s presence and familiar scent was calming, but he felt neither content nor afraid. He just felt sort of empty.

“You know, you can still change your mind,” Minako said softly. She pushed a plate of tiny cakes towards Yuuri, and despite his relative melancholy, he decided to accept the offering. He’d never say no to tiny cakes.

“I know that,” he told her. “But I also know I wouldn’t be satisfied with myself if I didn’t see this through.”

“Yuuri, sweetheart, you don’t have to do this for my sake. I know you must feel pressured—”

“But I _am_ pressured, aunt Minako,” Yuuri interrupted. He didn’t mean for it to be rude, but such was the truth of it. “Let’s face it. Our options are limited. If I’m the best choice, then so be it. I don’t feel bad about this. I’m an adult, and I know full well what it means to have a responsibility to something greater than yourself.”

Minako was shocked into silence for a few moments, but recovered with a wry smile. “You say you don’t think you’re cut out for politics, but you’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he sputtered. He still couldn’t see himself as a monarch. “I’m just saying that yes, personally, I feel lost and upset. But I’m still mentally ready to do this.”

“Very well,” Minako said, straightening up, and leaning back into her chair. “I respect your decision. I’m relieved at your honesty—both to me and to yourself—about your feelings on the matter.”

“It’s befitting a ruler?”

“It’s befitting a well-adjusted adult,” Minako shrugged. “Which I think is far more important. You are, first and foremost, my nephew. I’m proud of you—of the man you’ve become—and nothing will change that. I just want that to be clear. Even if a week or a month or _whatever_ from now, you decide that you’ve had enough of it, I will still be so proud of you. And I will support you every step of the way.”

Yuuri nodded, taking in her words and finding strength in them. He knew that, objectively, Minako was family and that she would never look down on him. But he still couldn’t bear the thought of one day letting her down. “I will do my best.”

“I can’t ask for anything more, dear.”

They made some idle chit chat about Yuuri’s family as they finished off the last of the pastries. About Hasetsu and Yuuri’s college life, and all manner of mundane things. Yuuri asked a few questions about Audentia—mostly things he’d picked up from wikipedia and the official travel website. Nothing very deep, until Yuuri finally worked up the courage to ask, “So, what happens now?”

“I was waiting for that.”

“I know.”

Minako laughed, waving over an attendant who cleared away all the tableware. “Things are about to happen very fast, I’m afraid. If it were up to me, you’d have months of training before we even got started, but that will have to come later.

“Tonight, we’ll be making the official announcement about your decision. There will be press and the like, but thankfully not much else.”

“Will I have to make a speech?”

“Don’t worry, we have one prepared for you already. You can look over it and make whatever changes you feel necessary.”

“Well, that’s a bit of a relief.” Yuuri imagined a team of speech writers working frantically on his behalf. Every big politician had them. It was crazy to think he was suddenly on that level.

“Tomorrow morning we’ll be off to Audentia. I know it’s sudden, but the sooner we get you there, the better.”

“I assume I’ll be meeting with Parliament after that?”

“Very astute. But don’t worry, it won’t be anything too intense. Just formalities and meeting the members. They’re eager to meet you.”

“I don’t know if I can say the same,” Yuuri sighed. Shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with stuffy old men he’d never met before was not something he looked forward to. Minako gave him a look, but continued.

“It’ll be fine, and I’ll be with you. Don’t let your nerves get the better of you. You’ve come this far already.”

“I know. I want to see it through.”

“Then let’s get you settled in. There’s a lot of preparations to be done before tonight, including some paperwork, I’m afraid.”

“And so it begins,” Yuuri sighed.

“And so it begins.”

Such was Yuuri’s future life, from here on out. Paperwork, speeches, and pleasantries. Maybe more delicious pastries—but how many tiny cakes could offset everything else?

* * *

The first order of business that Yuuri had to attend to was choosing his royal title. While titles themselves were gender neutral, conventions existed regardless—a holdover from historical times—and varied nation-by-nation. But as it were, Yuuri found the choice simple for now. _Prince_ Yuuri would do just fine. He would choose his title as monarch later. He didn’t want to jinx himself somehow, though he was not generally superstitious. This new life was something he wanted to be cautious with.

Even just the notion of being referred to as Prince Yuuri was horrifying, but the moment he signed the paper with Minako’s golden fountain pen, that’s what he became. 

“Very well, Your Royal Highness,” said the man who whisked away the papers with a bow. Yuuri felt his breath catch at his new, official style.

“Oh my god,” he whispered when he and Minako were alone. They were in her office, surrounded by books and paintings, and all manner of fancy trinkets. In a few minutes, Yuuri would go out there and make his grand speech, sealing the deal. Would his parents be watching? Of course they would be.

“Better get used to it. It’s official,” Minako said, unable to keep the grin off her face. Yuuri just pouted at her.

“And it’s about to get even more official,” he said. On the desk in front of him were a few notecards—abridged versions of the small speech he had been provided with. He’d made only a few changes here and there. “Well, as long as I don’t throw up in front of everyone. Then I’d have to become a hermit.”

Minako laughed, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know what they say, just imagine everyone in their underwear.”

“I don’t think that really helps. Makes everything worse and more awkward, maybe.”

“Alright, then I’ll tell you what I do. Just pick a point on the far wall. Or pick two or three people in the crowd that you happen to know, or feel comfortable looking at. Just alternate between these—like you’re talking to only them. Take away the crowd.”

“I’ll try,” was all Yuuri could promise.

“Your Majesty?” said one of Minako’s aides, who peeked her head in from the other room. “The press is ready for His Royal Highness.”

“Oh my god,” Yuuri all but wailed. He felt his stomach start its routine of endless flips. He was seriously going to throw up. That emptiness he’d felt was filled in with raw terror. “ _Fuck._ Why did I agree to this?”

Minako came to stand in front of him, blocking his view from the door. She put both her hands on his shoulders and bent a little to be eye level with him. “Look at me. Look at me, honey.”

Yuuri tried. He met her eyes, but felt like he was looking without seeing.

“It’s going to be fine,” she promised. “Five minutes, that’s all. Just five minutes.” Her tone was imbued with so much strength and finality that Yuuri wanted to draw from it. “I know you’re capable of this—all of this.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He felt his hands shaking, before realizing that he’d accidentally crumpled his note cards. As the aide peeked back in, beckoning for Yuuri to follow her into the lion’s den, he tried to frantically straighten out his note cards.

“This way, Your Royal Highness,” she bid him. Yuuri looked back at Minako as he followed, and she gave him a nod, her expression stoic and determined. Yuuri knew he was still shaking as he turned back around and let the aide lead him to the next room.

As soon as he exited through the door, he saw that they were on the side of a stage where a podium stood, microphone and all. There was even a teleprompter set up, certainly containing the same content as Yuuri’s notecards, which was a relief. They were currently blocked from view by a curtain, but they could see part of the crowd that was gathered.

The aide quickly swirled around, causing Yuuri to almost stumble over himself. “Sorry, sir,” she whispered, throwing her hands up. “If you’ll please allow me, I’ll just—” She took the liberty of adjusting the lapels on Yuuri’s coat and quickly fixing his tie with fast, trained hands. After brushing off something from his shoulder, she nodded, pleased. “I’ll go introduce you, and then you’ll walk out on stage. Just give them a quick wave and a smile, and say your speech. Then it’s just another quick wave and a smile as you leave. That’s all there is to it.”

“Thanks, um—”

“Janice, sir,” she said with a bow. “Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself earlier. I’m one of the Queen’s attachés, as you may already know.”

“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed a little awkwardly. Janice just smiled at him and turned back around to face the horde waiting beyond the curtain. He forced himself to breathe evenly in an attempt to quell the tremors.

Janice stepped up to the podium and gave a quick little intro. Yuuri wished he had heard it. It would have given him something to work off of. It might have set him at ease. But Yuuri had been so lost in his own thoughts that he wasn’t even aware that he’d be introduced until Janice was gesturing towards him.

He could do this. He’d given plenty of speeches before, participated in debates, and so on. He’d been trained for this, one way or another. Moreover—it seemed—he was _born_ for this. It wasn’t entirely comforting, but it did give him some measure of strength—even if it was entirely pretense.

Fake it ‘till you make it, right?

It was all Yuuri had to go on at the moment, and for some strange reason, Minako actually seemed to be okay with that. For some strange reason, she had complete faith in him. And if Yuuri could count on himself for one thing, it was to be absolutely terrified of disappointing people to the point where he forced himself to succeed.

And with that, Yuuri took his first steps beyond the curtain and into the fray. He felt mostly numb, unaware of his own steps towards the podium, and blinded by the bright lights of the stage until his eyes adjusted. Once he was in place, Janice bowed and scurried off the stage. It was all up to him, and him alone.

Suddenly, he couldn’t even remember why he was there. A speech—right? What was it that he was supposed to say? He looked down at the crumpled notecards that he’d placed on the podium, and then the crisp piece of paper next to it. Weirdly enough, he couldn’t read either. His eyesight was fuzzy again. Seeing, but not _seeing_. He looked up at the teleprompter to find the same issue there. He couldn’t focus on the words—it was like his eyes refused to accept any sensory information. He couldn’t even really see the crowd, and he would have wondered if he’d forgotten his glasses were it not for the reflection of his face in the lens of one of the nearby video cameras.

_Fuck_.

Fuck, he was totally blanking out during what was probably one of the most important moments of his life. Fuck, he was about to make a complete and utter fool of himself. He’d disappoint his aunt, his family, his new country, and himself. There was even a very real chance of him hurling and—

No, no. He could do this. He could. It was in his blood, for better or for worse. If Minako and his family had faith in him, then that was enough. He could rely on their strength.

Yuuri took a deep breath. It was just one speech. He could wing it.

“Hello,” he started to a silent audience. There was no noise amongst the sizeable crowd gathered in the room apart from the cacophony of camera shutters. He genuinely couldn’t see the crowd very well, even when he was a little calmer. It was due to the lighting, and he decided to use that to his advantage. He could pretend he was just talking to the void.

“My name is Yuuri Katsuki.” His voice did not waver as much as he expected. The crowd was still quiet, so he continued, gripping the sides of the podium to steady himself. “I had a speech prepared, but… I thought it would be nice to have a more candid conversation instead.”

In other words: _I forgot my speech and my brain is shutting down, so I'm going to ramble on a bit until someone drags me off this stage for my own good._

“I grew up blissfully in the small town of Hasetsu, in Kyushu. It’s a fishing town by the sea, not very noteworthy apart from its simple beauty; calm and serene. There, I was raised by my wonderful mother... and father—who was a member of the royal family of Audentia. When he met my mother, he abdicated for love, but through some twist of fate, I recently found myself eligible and in line for the throne.” Yuuri wasn’t sure what he was and wasn’t supposed to share with the public, but he found that once he started talking, it was easier to keep going.

“I’ll be honest. At first I wasn’t sure I wanted that. If I wanted anything to do with royalty. But lately, I’ve given a lot of thought to what it means to live a fulfilling life, and essentially came to the conclusion that there are a million and one different answers for that. Many times, there are no right or wrong choices. Just _choices_ that we make and have to live with. And I asked myself if I could live with saying no to this life. If I could say no to a country of millions of people. If I could say no to the opportunity to cause real change in the world. The answer to that was easy, even if it took me a while to realize it.

“I’m sure there are many people who doubt whether or not I’m the right person for the job—if I’m right for Audentia. But I believe I have something to offer that others may not: a unique perspective and… youthful optimism.” There were a few polite chuckles, and Yuuri felt himself loosen up a bit. He stood a bit taller, held his head a little higher. He even discovered there was a smile on his face. He continued, his voice steady with a certainty he never knew he possessed. “I understand that Audentia is in a somewhat contentious position regarding the throne. I hope I’m able to put that to rest, and to help lead Audentia into a future where we are all united. From that unity will come strength—the strength to lead ourselves and others into the future. Together, we can make not only the country, but the _world_ , a brighter place for everyone.

“I know the path ahead will not be easy, but I have incredible people to guide and support me: my family, my aunt—that is, Her Majesty—and so many others. If you will allow me, I’m sure I’ll be able to surprise you all.” Yuuri paused, taking in a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment. The crowd seemed to be holding their breath with him. He exhaled slowly, the mic thankfully not picking it up. He wanted this to be perfect.

“So as difficult as this path may be, I choose to walk down it. I choose to be, forevermore: Yuuri Katsuki, Prince of Audentia.”

His breath caught in his throat, his fingers numb from where they gripped the podium. He knew he was sweating, but felt remarkably cold. They had tossed some makeup on him—just under his eyes and such—and he hoped it wasn’t running. The silence in the room was horrifying, but just as he began to waver, the crowd broke out into applause, and Yuuri felt a rush of relief wash over him. He let out the breath he was holding, and did that smile and wave Janice told him about.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something glint, and when he turned to look, it was Minako standing at the side of the stage. She was now dressed in a regal gown, complete with a grand tiara on her head. She smiled at him, and gracefully made her way over to join him at the podium. He stepped aside and allowed her to take center stage, grateful to be out of the limelight for a minute.

“Thank you all so much for being here today.” Her voice was so temperate that Yuuri barely recognized it. It was the voice of a Queen. “Neither late King Statoshi nor I could have ever predicted this, but like me, I am certain he would be so proud of our nephew, Yuuri. They say that when one door closes, another one opens, and I think it’s time for us to step forward. Whatever lies ahead for Audentia, we shall face it together.”

More applause and camera shutters going off, like bursting supernovae in the darkness. A few reporters near the front of the stage could be seen furiously writing down notes, little recorders clutched in their hands. Yuuri knew that his face—already broadcasted live for millions—would soon be on headlines on physical newspapers and digital outlets for millions more to see. It wasn’t every day that a long lost prince turned up.

It wouldn’t be too dangerous for him now, would it? Now that the whole world knew his face?

He supposed there was a reason that he was ushered off stage by several security personnel, Michele and Celestino included. There was practically a wall around him as he was taken to a different room. Curiously, there were fewer people around Minako.

“Okay, I don’t get why I have a battalion of fifty people while you only have to deal with three,” he said once he and his aunt (and all the relevant attachés) were safely tucked into the room.

“Because _you_ are the future of Audentia now,” Minako said like it was the simplest thing in the world. Her _Queen_ mask was off again—stowed away for the time being—and even dressed to the nines, she just looked like his quirky aunt again. Her expressions were so animated, so unlike the eternally calm façade that was displayed for the public. “Besides, shouldn’t you feel safer with more security?”

“You’d think, but it honestly makes me nervous. Like there’s an axe murderer coming to get me, or a sniper lying in wait.”

“Don’t worry, Yuuri. You’re safe. But like with any famous person, precautions have to be taken. Better safe than sorry.”

“I suppose….” He was famous now. Ugh. “Maybe I’m still in shock.”

“I wouldn’t blame you.”

“How was my… speech, by the way? I know I went off-script, but I just sort of blanked out and did whatever came to mind,” he explained. He fiddled with the bottom of his jacket a bit.

“It was good,” Minako said, and Yuuri looked at her with doubt. “A little unrefined, perhaps, but charming overall. Speaking openly and candidly, yet with poise—it gave the public the impression that you are approachable and _real_. A real human being who cares about others and their plights, instead of just some puppet trained to take over the crown one day.”

Yuuri was quiet. He didn’t expect Minako to react so favorably, though he thought he’d done an okayish job. “Thanks.”

“And it gives our enemies the impression that you are young, naive, and vulnerable. We can use that to our advantage.”

“And suddenly, all the security makes sense.”

Minako barked out a laugh. “As if a sniper would even be able to get within twenty kilometers of you, honey.”

“I’ll try to feel reassured.”

“It’s almost time!” Janice said from the other side of the room, standing in front of another set of double doors. These were much grander in design, and Yuuri had been told that they opened out to a balcony. From there, they would pose for a quick photo-op and some traditional waving. They would be done after that. Mostly.

“Let’s not keep them waiting,” Yuuri said, taking a step forward. Minako stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Just a moment, dear.” She gestured at someone standing near a door at the side of the room. A man holding a velvet cushion entered, his expression completely blank and professional. Yuuri didn’t know how he could manage to hold his face together like that when he was sure his own jaw was practically on the floor; owing to the fact that atop the cushion sat a beautiful tiara. It was much simpler and smaller than Minako’s, but no less breathtaking.

“Wha—”

“You don’t have to, but you _can_. I wanted you to have the choice. These days, many omegas choose to forgo it, but traditionally speaking….” Minako said. Yuuri snapped his jaw back shut and swallowed. It glittered brilliantly, catching the light in the room in such a way that it almost seemed to glow. Did they really trust him with such a lovely thing?

Yuuri knew that in Audentia, a tiara fashioned in such a manner as the one before him—silver with gold accenting, and encrusted in dozens of diamonds—was a symbol of the crown prince or princess. It was not exclusive to any one dynamic, but was more often than not worn by omegas. Many alphas and betas wore a circlet, or nothing at all. Yuuri knew he didn’t have to wear anything either, but he looked at Minako with her own regal tiara, and felt like perhaps tradition wouldn’t be so bad at the moment. Especially after his informal speech, it would balance things out.

And, to be frank, he just wanted to wear it. Maybe he’d never outgrown his fascination with shiny things, but he could hardly be blamed. There had to be _some_ perks to being royalty, and wearing pretty things was probably even a primal instinct on some level.

“Are you sure, though?” he asked anyway. Would it even match his outfit—the dark blue suit and tie? But of course it would. What didn’t go with _diamonds_?

“Very. We’ve had it ready, just in case,” she revealed. “It’s smaller since you’re unmarried, as per custom, but it’s been passed down for many generations. I never wore it, as my first tiara was my bridal one when I married into the family. We had it dusted off for you, in hopes that you may like to wear it.”

“Okay,” he breathed out, still staring at it with wide eyes. Minako beamed at him and carefully plucked the tiara off the cushion. Yuuri bent a little as she placed it atop his head, holding in a gasp when he felt the weight of it. He straightened back up and looked at her, since there was no mirror in the room. “Well?”

“Resplendent. Just like the prince you were meant to be.” There was an indescribably proud look on her face, and it suddenly made everything feel worth it.

“Thanks.” Yuuri felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Would he be able to live up to all this?

“Well, let’s get going. We’ve kept them waiting long enough, now,” she said, heading over to the grand doors at the end of the room. Yuuri followed, carefully, as he was worried that one wrong move would send the tiara flying off. But despite being small, it was heavy and secure in its place.

Yuuri took a few calming breaths as they approached, bracing for the cameras he would have to face again. More pictures of him to be tossed onto websites and newspapers. Such was his life now.

“Do you ever get used to this? The publicity of it all?” he asked just before the doors were opened by white-gloved attendants.

“Eventually, yes. But for now, just smile and wave. Don’t think too hard,” Minako advised. Yuuri wondered how much media training was in his future. 

“I’ll try my best.”

The doors opened up to a small stone balcony, decorated with flowers and other greenery. Dozens of reporters, more than before, were stationed at the ready. The burst of light the second they stepped into the balcony was blinding yet again. Yuuri did not react, instead keeping his face as stoic as possible. He didn’t want a meme-worthy shot of him to circulate across the world for all to see so soon. If he was a prince now (oh god), then he would have to hold up some illusion of grace and self-control.

_Smile and wave_ was the name of the game, and boy did Yuuri pick it up well. Faking his smile got easier after the first few minutes, and he simply copied Minako’s gentle wave so his own arm wouldn’t tire too quickly.

“It gets easier,” Minako whispered anyway. “But you’re doing perfectly. A natural.”

“I'm really just following your lead and using what I know from movies.”

Minako laughed, soft and polite for the cameras. “My little prince.”

They weren’t out for very long before it all ended, allowing them to step back into the safety of the embassy, no worse for the wear.

“Alright?” Minako asked as soon as the doors were closed.

“Alright,” he confirmed. It was difficult to describe exactly what he was feeling. Like he was slowly painting over his true self with this shabby façade for everyone to see, adding more layers of paint with each passing second. Behind closed doors, he could exhale and peel it all off, until the next time. “That’s it for now?”

“For now, yes. Rest up and I’ll make sure dinner is brought up to you.”

“We won’t eat together?”

“I’m afraid not tonight, honey. So much to organize. I have about a dozen calls to make and a textbook’s worth of paperwork to go over before we leave tomorrow morning. We have mostly everything prepared, but it’s now a matter of activating all of our _Prince Yuuri_ plans.”

“You don’t have people to do it for you?” It didn’t sound like a very queenly thing for Minako to worry herself with. Surely there was a small army of staff at the ready.

“Normally, yes. But if you want something done right, do it yourself, yes? And of course, when it comes to you, I want to be absolutely sure everything is perfect,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “The price of being anal, I guess.”

“Are you allowed to say that?”

“I’m the Queen. I can say whatever I want.”

* * *

“Are you satisfied with your quarters, Your Royal Highness?” asked a young woman dressed in blue, setting down a shiny tray on the coffee table. 

“Yes, thank you,” Yuuri said, wondering how anyone could _not_ be. He’d been given a large bedroom with an attached sitting area, both impeccably decorated. Pink marble, hand-carved wood, gold accenting everywhere—it was undoubtedly regal. The bathroom was on its own level, complete with a rain shower that had about twelve different options. He’d been overwhelmed enough by the first three that he’d settled for a quick rinse, and had fled in a fluffy white robe.

He had been studying about Audentia, lounging on the couch in the sitting room, when the woman arrived.

“I hope dinner is to your liking, sir.”

“I’m sure it will be, thank you,” he bid her, and she left with another bow. Yuuri set aside his book and scooted closer to the literal silver platter in front of him, and lifted off the dish cover. He’d been expecting something like roast duck, or some other succulent meat—something royalty would eat and whatnot—but was rather surprised to find a bowl of _katsudon_.

It was impeccably garnished, and Yuuri had no doubt it has been cooked to perfection. It sat in a gilded porcelain bowl, decorated with tiny, colorful flowers. It made the katsudon go from regularly mouth-watering to downright irresistible.

_“Itadakimasu!”_

There were more delicies to enjoy, such as a pretty pink cake: vanilla with a hint of peaches. Audentia was famous for the fruit, among other things.

Perhaps this new life of his wouldn’t have to be completely alien. He could have a mix of old and new, familiar and surprising. It was a little more than a security blanket against the storm he knew he’d have to face, but at least he didn’t feel as morose as before. He felt a tad lighter, and a smidge more confident. Thinking too hard about it still made him quake with fear, but he could control that fear for now. There was simply no other option. He would face every challenge to come one by one. There were people who depended on him now, and he wasn’t about to let them down.

･:*:･ﾟ’☆,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆･:*:･

_Agnia Castle, Vilsea,  
Capital City of Audentia_

“Tea, my lord?”

“No thank you, Myelle.”

“Victor, come sit down. Why are you just standing there? You’re blocking my view.”

Victor Nikiforov peered over at his uncle Yakov, who was taking his tea with a side of jam, and looking as irritable as ever. Maybe a bit more irritable than usual, considering the content matter currently playing on the TV. Victor couldn’t really understand why.

“This is a farce,” came the predictable grumble. Myelle—a servant who’d been with them as long as Victor could remember—exchanged looks with Victor before quietly excusing herself.

“Why do you say that?” he asked once he and his uncle were alone, settling into the chair next to the couch. Yakov gumbled around a scone before answering.

“The long lost heir to the throne suddenly shows up out of nowhere? Preposterous. Toshiya Katsuki renounced his titles, meaning his descendants would not have any claim to the throne.”

“Apparently that’s not how Parliament wanted it.”

“Which is another farce all on its own.”

“A Parliament that is staunchly defensive of the Crown is something any constitutional monarchy would want. And besides, Audentia’s laws of succession have always been a bit… unconventional. You’re only upset now that it doesn’t benefit us.” Victor knew his uncle’s ambitions well. Yakov only huffed in response. “I thought Prince Yuuri’s speech was actually very charming.”

“He’s an outsider, for all intents and purposes.”

“Yes, but maybe that makes him a decent choice. He’s of royal blood, and he’s not completely mired in the political nonsense that the rest of us are.” A fresh new face on the Audentian throne would not be such a bad thing, Victor thought. He was probably alone in that sentiment, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own list of doubts about this new prince, but he could see the appeal that Her Majesty and Parliament likely had seen as well.

“It sets your even further away from the throne, Victor,” Yakov said, in a tone that felt almost like a warning. Victor chuckled at the absurdity.

“So? I am no politician, Yakov,” he shrugged. The idea of sitting pretty atop a throne was not something that ever appealed to him, despite his family’s eagerness for the same. Victor knew his own talents lay elsewhere. It was better to let the crown go to someone who might actually be able to do some good with it. “I’m just a soldier.”

“You’re more than that,” Yakov all but growled. Though the old man didn’t continue with a full-blown lecture as Victor expected, which was a relief. He didn’t know if he had the patience for another one at the moment.

He looked at the TV—at the program showcasing the new crown prince’s lovely smile for all to see—and sighed, recalling the speech from earlier. Oh, how he did love surprises.

“I look forward to meeting His Royal Highness soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiaras in many places are traditionally worn only by married women, but in Audentia, this is not the case. Small tiaras/diadems are worn by unmarried royalty (either alphas or omegas, but most often by omegas), and larger ones by married members of the royal family.
> 
> Keeping with the gender neutrality, titles such as prince/princess, king/queen are chosen, and have no inherent power difference. A King and Queen would be considered the same exact rank, with the differentiation of a ruling monarch's spouse--who would share titles but not sovereignty--being called "[Prince/Princess/King/Queen] Consort" at the discretion of the monarch. E.G., Minako was originally Queen Consort, but upon her husband's death, became Queen Regent--as she is essentially "holding" the throne for the heir. If Yuuri ascends to the throne, he would be [King/Queen] Regnant, and his spouse [King/Queen] Consort--at his discretion. Please feel free to ask if you've got any questions!
> 
> Your comments are what kept me going these last few weeks, so please keep 'em coming! Please drop by my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nyerus10) or [Tumblr](https://nyerus.tumblr.com/) if you want to chat more. My DMs are always open! ♡

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this AU for months and finally decided to post it to get the ball rolling. I have other WIPs which I adore, but have found that getting all the ideas out of my head is far more productive to all of my WIPs than trying on hyper-focusing on just one. I have so much to share with all of you, and I can't wait!
> 
> A big thank-you to my dear [Nora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammi_vicinora) and [Athra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/getaway_machine/pseuds/Athra) for their help!
> 
> I live off of your comments and interaction, so please tell me what you thought of this! And feel free to drop by my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nyerus10) or [Tumblr](https://nyerus.tumblr.com/). My DMs are always open! ♡


End file.
